


After The Fall

by adarkworldfantasy



Category: Compilation of Final Fantasy VII, Dirge of Cerberus: Final Fantasy VII
Genre: Aftermath of DeepGround, Friendship/Love, Healing, Hurt/Comfort, Injury Recovery, M/M, Mystery, Slice of Life, Unexpected Encounters & Situations
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-07
Updated: 2020-12-07
Packaged: 2021-03-09 19:40:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 15
Words: 69,178
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27911662
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/adarkworldfantasy/pseuds/adarkworldfantasy
Summary: After defeating Deep Ground and stopping Omega, Vincent attempts to move on with his life.  Thankfully, he has several people looking out for him to help him along the road to recovery and to live a normal life, or at least as normal as it can be for Vincent Valentine.
Relationships: Cid Highwind/Vincent Valentine
Comments: 4
Kudos: 34





	1. Chapter 1

_'It wasn't supposed to come to this,'_ Vincent told himself. What had initially started as a mission to track down the terrorists that attacked Kalm and retrieve the kidnapped citizens instead turned into a leap down a rabbit hole of bitter memories, dark secrets, and a danger that threatened the planet's existence. He had not expected the fate of the planet to be at stake, much less have that fate resting upon his and Chaos' shoulders. Yet, here he was - he and Chaos working together as one to prevent Omega from carrying out its preordained duties. As they breached the outer shell of Omega's form, Vincent could feel the crushing pressure of Omega's energy breaching Chaos' body and effecting himself as well. As they dove deeper into the center of the being's form, the roar of trepidation of his supernatural counterparts grew louder, nearly deafening him. The light was the last thing that Vincent remembered before being engulfed in complete darkness. A part of him wondered if he had been rendered blind by such intense rays, but his concern was proven wrong as he worked to open his eyes again and was greeted with soft, dim light.

"Hey there, sunshine," Vincent heard a familiar voice speak.

As Vincent opened his eyes and became more aware of his surroundings, he began to take note of numerous things. A subtle ringing present in his ears. A peculiar tingling, nearly numb sensation that lingered beneath his skin. This and taking in the sight of the drab hospital room he was present within only added to the confusion currently seeping into his veins. "Where-"

"Yer in a hospital," Cid answered as he moved to sit on the edge of the bed. "You were pretty rough lookin' after that battle with Omega. Lucky fer you though, Reeve got a hold of some top-notch docs ta tend to ya. Gotta say they did one hell of a job." Cid reached out and brushed back some of Vincent's hair that had fallen across his face. The friendly gesture seemed pointless however as several of the strands of hair fell back over Vincent's eyes. "How're ya feelin'?"

Vincent was silent as he absorbed what Cid had quickly conveyed to him, all the while looking at everything present within the room and allowing his mind to catch up to the current moment. It was day time, he could tell that much from the light that was peeking out from behind the edges of the closed curtains of the room. Vincent was thankful they weren't open as his eyes were stinging enough as it was from the small amount of light filtering through the grey coloured room. A few medical machines were positioned around his bed, ones he recognized for administering IV medication and monitoring heart and blood oxygen levels. On his nightstand sat a vase full of bright yellow lilies that reminded him of the ones that grew in abundance throughout Aerith's church. After taking some time to examine his environment and to allow the ringing in his ears to subside, Vincent thought of Cid's question. He proceeded to take note of any concerning sensations worth mentioning when he came to an unexpected conclusion. Aside from the strange tingling in his skin along his arms and chest, he felt fine. "I... feel good, actually..."

Cid's signature smirk tugged at his lips. "That's good. Better than the alternative, right?" he said. "Ya must be good if yer not freakin' out over bein' in a hospital bed."

"Yeah... I guess so," Vincent replied, surprised by this as well now that Cid pointed it out. He blamed this on the confusion from having just awoken. Once the numbness in his limbs began to subside, Vincent lifted his hands from his sides and looked them over. He felt his gut quiver with nausea at the sight of the IV lines going into each hand. Despite the fact that decades had passed since he had been a guinea pig on Hojo's table, the trauma from those days still affected Vincent in a way that he hated to admit. He was thankful that his hands were fully bandaged to hide the view of the needles in his skin, but the knowledge of it bothered him none the less. He momentarily wondered what the damage to his arms currently looked like compared to before, but he pushed the thought aside for the time being. Instead, he gathered his thoughts and attempted to focus on what questions were most important to start with first, and he immediately thought back to the last thing he recalled. "Omega. Did we defeat him?"

Cid laughed softly at the questioning look upon Vincent's face. "Think we'd be here if we lost?"

Vincent blinked and realized the foolishness of his inquiry. "That is a good point," he conceded. He exhaled and lifted a hand to brush back the strands of hair that insisted on impeding his vision. "Apparently my brain still needs to wake up."

"Nah, don't be sorry, I'm just teasin' ya," he said, the smirk fading to a soft smile instead. Cid moved his hand to gently pat Vincent's hip in a friendly manner. "Yeah, ya took him down, you and Chaos. Yer a hero. People've been talkin' non-stop about ya."

"Chaos." The uttering of the name triggered Vincent's hand to go to his chest, a pensive look crossing his face.

"Somethin' wrong?" Cid asked, the smile fading at the look that overcame the other.

The silence stretched on between the two for some time as Vincent's attention was focused elsewhere within his mind. Just as Cid was about to speak up once more, Vincent finally spoke. "I can't feel him. I can't... feel any of them."

"What'd'ya mean?"

"I can usually sense them, Chaos and the others, inside myself," Vincent explained. "It's a feeling I don't think I could ever really explain, but I could feel them and hear them. Now it's just... quiet."

Cid grunted softly, unsure what to offer as an explanation for such a phenomenon. "Maybe they're healin' from the battle too?" he suggested. "I imagine it probably took its toll on 'em too."

Unconvinced, Vincent shook his head. "No. No, it doesn't feel like that. I've felt that before, and it's a draining sensation, to say the least. This is... this is different."

"Yeah, but this battle was different than fightin' a monster ya came across in the wild," the pilot pointed out. "Try not ta fret over it too much right now. I imagine each of ya needs to recuperate after what happened. Ya might be feelin' good, but ya did just come outta one hell of a fight. Just take it easy. They might make themselves known yet. Just give 'em time."

Vincent nodded reluctantly. As much as the silence from his supernatural counterparts had him troubled, he could agree that worrying about it would not change the situation. "I suppose you're right," he said aloud but internally questioned, 'But what if they don't return?' It was ironic, now that he thought of it. For years, Vincent wanted nothing more than to silence the voices that incessantly hummed in the back of his mind like a maddening white noise, for his body and mind to be his, and only his, once again. Yet now that he had been granted that silence, it left him with a feeling of apprehension instead. The words' be careful what you wish for' materialized within Vincent's mind, and he wondered how the encounter with Omega could have done such a thing.

Cid moved a hand to gently pat Vincent's arm in an attempt to help calm the other. "If ya want, I can fill ya in on everythin' that's been goin' on. But before I do that, do ya want me ta get ya somethin' to drink or eat? I imagine yer probably wantin' somethin', right?"

Vincent mulled over the thought and found himself nodding once more. "Sure. That would be nice," he agreed. "Thank you, Cid."

The pilot gave him a smile and a wink. "No problem," Cid said and promptly left the room to retrieve some food items from the cafeteria.

It seemed that no sooner had Cid left that he had returned with some tea and some small sandwiches for him to munch on. During this time, Cid filled Vincent in on the events that transpired after the battle with Omega and what the others had been doing to help with the aftermath, such as city clean up and the like. Though Vincent wished such destruction of the city could have been avoided, he was glad to hear the outcome was not as horrible as what the alternative could have been.

Not long after he had finished both his tea and food, the on-duty doctor and nurse stepped into the room to do their daily check on Vincent and how well he had healed. Vincent still felt uneasy being examined thanks to past events but reminded himself that this was only necessary, and they weren't here to cause him harm. As the doctor literally checked him over from head to toe, from heart rate and breathing to eyesight and hearing, Cid talked to him and made humorous commentary that aided Vincent from being genuinely bothered by the examination.

"I have to say, I am impressed. No more broken bones. Your limb mobility seems good," the doctor said as she took a peek under the bandages that covered Vincent's chest, humming to herself. "And from what I can tell, your wounds have healed quite nicely." She pressed the medical tape back against Vincent's skin. "You heal quickly."

"It's a gift, of sorts," Vincent said as he stared at the ceiling. He had expected as much as his healing abilities were more elevated than the average person, thanks to Chaos and the others. He wondered if this meant they were still with him but were in a dormant state of sorts. He reached up to fold the shirt over his chest. "Does this mean I get to leave soon?"

"You can leave today if you want."

"Today?" Vincent repeated.

"Yes, if you're ready to," the doctor spoke as she wrote a few things down on the clipboard he held in his hands. "Keeping you here while you are in seemingly perfect health would be rather pointless. However, if you would like to stay another night-"

"No, that's fine," Vincent said without hesitation. "I'll leave today."

The doctor chuckled at the quick response. "Consider it done. I'll have the orders sent to the front desk. In the meantime, another nurse will come in and help with removing your IV and the like," she said as she motioned to the bandages on Vincent's arms and chest. "After that is done, be sure to stop at the nurse's station to sign out and retrieve any belongings of yours before you leave," she said as she ventured away from the bed and to the door. "Have a good day."

"Oh, I will," Vincent said as he shifted in the bed. "Thank you for your help," he said to the doctor and nurse before they moved on with their patient rounds. The gunman looked to Cid and smiled, almost gleefully. "Guess this means I'll have to get my clothes back."

"I'd say so," Cid said with a smirk. He stepped over to the closet and retrieved a bag that had been stored within it. "I went and bought ya some new ones the other day before ya woke up. Had ta do some guesswork, but I think I got yer size. Yer other clothes were pretty messed up."

"I suppose I shouldn't be surprised," Vincent replied. He wondered if this was a good thing, especially since he was occasionally teased about the lack of variety in his wardrobe. He looked to the bag as it was handed to him and added, "You certainly think of everything, don't you?"

Cid shrugged, still smirking. "I try."

"And you succeeded. Now, all I have to do is wait for the nurse to come and take this stuff off," Vincent said while looking at his hands. "Then again..." He reached up and started to strip away some of the bandage tape wrapped around his palm of his left hand.

"Tryin' ta save them some time by doin' it yerself?" Cid asked with mild amusement.

"Somewhat, yes," Vincent said. "It's more of a... morbid curiosity to see how bad the damage is. The bonus is, I get out of here quicker if there's less for them to peel off me."

"Guess so. Just didn't think you'd wanna mess with any o' that." Cid walked to the bedside table and opened a drawer, peering inside. "Maybe some scissors would help?"

"If there's any here." Vincent frowned. "How badly was I injured that they felt the need to wrap my whole arm? And my chest, for that matter."

"Bad enough, I guess?" Cid replied as he continued the search. After going through a few more drawers, Cid withdrew a pair of scissors and moved to sit on the edge of the bed and help Vincent as best as he could. "Either that or a doc in trainin' went overboard on tapin' down yer IV."

"I would prefer it if that was the reason why," Vincent replied grimly, knowing the chances of that were very slim. He held out his hand for the scissors. "I'll do it."

"I can do it," Cid said without looking up from what he was doing. "It ain't that big a deal."

"It may not be a big deal to you, but I'd rather you not see what is under these bandages." When Cid didn't listen, Vincent snatched away the scissors and continued from where Cid had started by his wrist. "It was bad enough before, so I can only imagine how it looks now.

Cid groaned and tossed his hands in the air in a show of exasperation. "Ah hell, like I've told ya before, I don't care 'bout that. I ain't gonna think of ya any differently. I'm sure it ain't that bad anyway."

"I'd rather leave you to believe that is the case," Vincent responded. He cut the bandages down the length of his arm until he reached the end of it, just past his elbow, then set the scissors aside. He pulled back a portion of the bandage to peer underneath to get a peek of the damage. Vincent frowned as he continued to pull it back inch by inch until it came off entirely, only the IV and tape holding it in place remaining. Ruby eyes fixated upon his skin with a look of shock. "What happened to me?"

Cid looked at the slightly red hue to Vincent's arm and raised a brow. "That's it? That's what ya didn't want me to see?"

"No," Vincent said, bewildered as he ran his fingers over the tingling skin. Aside from a faint rash-like looking affliction that spread from his knuckles to the base of his bicep, not a scar was to be seen. The sight rendered him speechless. He reached up to pull back his shirt to look under the bandages the doctor had peered under earlier, finding the same thing. Where his skin had once been marred by scars from gunshot wounds, battle injuries, surgeries, and countless experiments, only faintly reddened skin was present. "What exactly did they use to heal me?"

Cid shrugged. "Don't ask me. Reeve said the docs were the best o' the best. Guess they've got some tricks up their sleeves many people don't know about."

"But to do this?" Vincent questioned as he looked over the entirety of his arm once more as if he had only imagined the sight before him.

Cid chuckled gently. "Apparently?" He raised a brow as Vincent once again peered beneath the collar of the hospital shirt and the bandages they covered. "What? Are all the scars gone?"

Not bothering to use the scissors this time, Vincent reached up and proceeded to peel off the bandages wrapping his right arm, finding pristine but red-patched skin concealed beneath as well. "Yeah. All of them," he said. Returning his attention to his left arm, he drew his fingers over the skin again, unable to believe what he was seeing. The images of the damage that had been done to him were ones he could not easily forget. He couldn't help but feel as though he was dreaming as he touched the flawless skin that was his own. "They must be medical geniuses," Vincent replied after a long silence.

"I'd say so," Cid replied. "Not that that's a bad thing, though, right? I know ya always felt self-conscious about yer scars... must feel nice not ta have 'em anymore, right?"

"Yeah. Yeah, it does," Vincent said, his voice not much louder than a whisper.

Cid smiled at the gunman. "Good." He nodded to the door and said, "I'm gonna step out and make a few calls, let everyone know yer okay. Hopefully the nurse'll show up soon and help ya out. Call if ya need me, okay?"

Vincent nodded and looked into the bag to see if he could decipher what was inside of it. "Sure. Thank you, Cid."

"No problem. See ya in a bit," the pilot spoke then slipped out of the room to give the other some privacy.

Vincent waited silently, mildly impatient as he waited for the nurse to come and of what needed to be one. He knew it had not been long since he had awoken and that he was lucky enough to be leaving so soon, but this didn't change the fact that he wished to get out of the place as quickly as possible. Vincent's feet lightly bounced and twitched beneath the blanket covering him, and he carefully picked at the tape covering the IV line left in his hand. It felt like an eternity had passed by the time the nurse arrived, but a glance at the clock had reminded him this was surely not the case. Idle conversation was shared as the nurse helped removed the IV and other instruments attached to him. As the nurse disposed of the items into a bio-hazard bin, he went over a few things for Vincent to be aware of after he left the hospital, such as what to do in case he started to feel ill or random pain that arose for no reason. Once he had given Vincent all the information he needed, he bid the gunman farewell and slipped out of the room.

Not wanting to waste any more time, Vincent stripped out of the hospital garments and started to put on the ones that had been provided to him by his friend. The black denim pants fit nicely, and so did the soft, long-sleeved red shirt Cid had found for him. He was thankful that Cid had picked out a basic style of clothing and colours he preferred. He buttoned up the shirt and moved on to put on the new boots provided, taking a few minutes to lace them to his liking, then put on the final article of clothing - a new leather jacket. Vincent was sure that the other spent a small fortune getting these for him, especially the jacket. He would have to repay the other for going to such trouble for him.

Vincent finished getting dressed and looked himself over in the mirror. It felt odd to be out of the attire he had grown so used to during past years, but looking at his reflection in the mirror didn't leave him feeling uneasy but rather very comfortable instead. This brought a smile to his face, but it was only brief as he frowned as he looked at his left hand and focused on the tingling once again. He scratched at the bandage that covered the injection site. The nurse had mentioned the tingling could be blamed on either the treatments or a mild allergy to the bandaging they had used and shouldn't last long. Vincent hoped this was the case, even if it was a minor inconvenience.

Vincent took a deep breath and checked the room for anything else of importance that may have been left behind. Once he felt it was safe to depart, he stepped out of the room.

"Look at you," Cid said upon seeing the other step out into the hallway. "Lookin' pretty sharp."

"Thanks to you," Vincent replied and looked himself over once more. "You have good taste. And a good eye for measurements."

"I'm lucky that way," Cid said, giving him a wink. "Alright. Let's go up to the front desk and wait fer yer papers. Then we can get the hell outta here and find something to do."

Vincent answered silently with a nod as he fell in step behind the pilot. Once at the nurse's station, Vincent signed his discharge papers and was handed a list of instructions to follow upon leaving the hospital, such as being mindful of strange pain and unusual symptoms arising and what to do in the event such things occurred. He took the papers handed to him and slipped them inside his coat pocket. "I suppose I should gather my belongings first. Then we can leave."

"Shouldn't be anything of yers here," Cid spoke. "Tifa's got yer phone and gun back at the bar, in the safe. Didn't wanna let those things go missin' on ya. As fer yer clothes, ya already know that story."

Vincent nodded and looked down at himself. He was surprised that out of the entirety of his attire being different that it was the lack of his firearm that bothered him most. "I see."

"We can go and get it now," Cid said, nudging Vincent's arm with his knuckles. "I'm sure Tifa will be happy to see ya. We can have a celebratory drink while we're there too."

The idea of settling down and having a few drinks certainly did sound like an appealing idea to Vincent and perked him up a bit. He nodded and zipped up his coat, enjoying the weight and warmth of it surrounding him. "What are we waiting for then?"

Cid laughed and pat the man on the back. "That's the spirit. Let's go."


	2. Chapter 2

A short drive later, Cid was parking his truck at the back entrance of the Seventh Heaven. There was no point trying to enter through the front as Tifa would have it locked until it was time to open, so Vincent and Cid made their way through the hallway crowded with boxes of drink and other supplies that had yet to be sorted and put in its proper places. Cid stepped into the central area of the bar, smiling as he saw Tifa wiping down some shelves that the new bottles would be placed upon. "Hey, feisty. I brought some company."

Tifa nearly jumped at the voice but thankfully managed to prevent herself from slipping off the stool she stood upon. "Oh? And who might that-." Her sentence died as her eyes gazed upon the raven-haired man that followed through the doorway behind the blonde. "Vincent!" In a moment, Tifa jumped down from the small step stool and was hugging Vincent in a tight embrace. "It's so good to see you again! How are you feeling?" she asked as she pulled back to look the other over from head to toe.

A chuckle bubbled up from within Vincent's chest at Tifa's reaction, and he couldn't help but smile as he looked at her. "Quite well, thank you. I'm surprised I don't feel as bad as what I could be."

"That's not a bad thing," the woman countered with a poke to the center of Vincent's chest. She glanced over the clothes and brushed her hands over Vincent's shoulders as if wiping away wrinkles. "You look good." Mahogany eyes turned to look at Cid. "So, this is what you found when you went shopping?"

"It is," Cid said, lighting a cigarette from a newly opened pack. "Somethin' wrong with it?"

"Not at all. I'm just impressed," Tifa replied. "People are going to be drooling over him now when they see him walk by." The woman smirked and looked up to Vincent again. "Would you like something to drink or eat? I don't have the stoves on yet, but I can warm up leftovers from last night if you would like?" 

Vincent ignored the heat that rose to his face at Tifa's comment regarding his attire and chose to refrain from commenting on the matter. "I ate at the hospital. That will tie me over for a bit. But a drink would be nice, thank you. Vincent moved to take a seat by the pilot and said, "That and I would like to have my gun and other belongings back as well since we are here."

"Sure, no problem." She snatched a glass off the tray behind the bar and retrieved a bottle sitting to the side, one that she seemed to know Vincent would enjoy. "I can get those for you before you leave." Once the drink was poured, she handed the glass over and proceeded to pour another two for herself and Cid. "So where will you be staying now that you're out of the hospital? 

"I was asking myself that very question at the hospital," Vincent admitted and took a sip of the alcohol. He savoured the burn of the amber liquid as it works its way down his throat. He looked to the glass as he swirled the fluid within it. "I'm not too sure where I'll end up staying."

"You could stay here if you want," Tifa offered. "We do have an extra room. It's just for storage at the moment, but we could do something with it."

"Could call Reeve," Cid added as well. "Considerin' all that ya did, I'm sure he'd be able ta find somethin' around the city and swing some sort o' deal fer ya."

"That's a thought," Tifa agreed.

Vincent shook his head, uncertain that he liked that idea. "I do not want to impose upon him nor ask for more than I deserve."

"I'd say you deserved it," Cid said, gently punching Vincent's shoulder.

"I agree," Tifa replied. "Besides, it wouldn't hurt? You're only asking, not demanding."

"I don't know," Vincent said, still feeling uncertain about asking for such a favour. Reeve was a busy man with a mountain of responsibilities before him, and he could only imagine the list of jobs had increased after the Deepground incident. To simply just approach the commissioner and ask to arrange living quarters for himself felt too bold.

"I'll give him a call," Cid spoke. Before Vincent could protest and prevent him from doing such a thing, Cid got up from his seat and walked away with his phone in hand.

Vincent let out a heavy breath, his shoulders slouching. "I would argue with him, but I think I would have better luck pulling my own teeth out."

Tifa chuckled, followed by a nod of agreement to the statement. "You know Cid. Once he sets his mind to something, there is next to nothing that can keep him from doing so." Tifa took another sip of her drink before asking, "So how are you feeling? Really."

"Honestly, I feel excellent," Vincent spoke, leaning his weight against the bar, cupping the glass between both of his hands. "I'm surprised in a way, but none the less thankful for it. Other than the minor side effects from the treatments and wondering what happened to Chaos, I'm feeling rather good."

"What's wrong with Chaos?" Tifa inquired.

Vincent shook his head. "I don't know." He pushed aside the glass to rub the back of his hand and flexed the fingers to see if that would help get rid of the sensation. "I can't hear him or feel him like I could before. It's odd."

Tifa's eyes followed Vincent's hands, a soft hum of contemplation coming from her. "What about the others?"

"I can't sense them either," said Vincent. "I'm not sure why the other three are silent, but as for Chaos, it wondered if his and Omega's energy cancelled each other out somehow."

"That could be the case," Tifa agreed. "The blast that happened after you and... well, after _Chaos_ and Omega collided was a powerful one. Maybe it did send both of them back to the planet." The woman paused and shook her head. "It's surprising that it didn't harm you in the process. I'm thankful it didn't."

"That's exactly what I had been thinking," Vincent confessed. "Which is why I am glad I am not in worse condition than what I could have been. It leaves me to wonder who was looking out for me at that moment."

The dark-haired woman smiled and propped her chin within her hand. "Mmmm, I could think of one person," Tifa said, her eyes glazed with nostalgia. 

A soft hum left the gunman as he rubbed the back of his hand. "Strange for you mention that," he commented. "I was briefly reminded of Aerith as well today. I'd like to think that she was the one that helped me." Truthfully he felt that the ones he needed to thank for sparing him from the worst of the damage that could have been inflicted upon him were to his demonic counterparts. However, a part of him wanted to believe it was their old comrade that had been the one to help him through it as well. Then again, perhaps all of them made a joint effort to help him through the ordeal. Regardless, he was simply thankful things did not end up worse than they could have.

"Perhaps she did, but we'll never know for sure." She lifted her chin from her hand and reached out to hold Vincent's hand and squeeze it within her own, stopping him from scratching at his skin. "Either way, it's good to have you back and in one piece."

Vincent's eyes lifted to look at his smiling friend. He returned the smile and withdrew one of his hands from beneath hers, encapsulating Tifa's hand between both of his own. "It's good to be back, Tifa."

Cid returned to the room a moment later and reclaimed his seat beside the gunman, settling into his spot with a soft grunt. "Reeve said he'd be happy to set somethin' up. He'll send me the information when he gets it all sorted out."

Though unsurprised by the gesture, Vincent still couldn't help but feel guilty. Reeve had always been a kind man and seemingly ran himself ragged to help his friends with any issue that ever arose. This wasn't a bad trait, of course, but one that Vincent did not want to take advantage of. "I'll have to find a way to repay him."

"I don't think he's worried about that," Cid said. "In fact, he probably feels he owes this to you. He was pretty worried about ya after what happened."

"All of us were," Tifa spoke. "Take the offer, Vincent. It won't hurt for you to be pampered for a while." With that, Tifa finished her drink and set the empty glass in the sink. "I'll go get your things. I'll be right back," she said before promptly wandering off to do just that.

Vincent replaced his hands around the glass before him, slowly turning it in circles and watching the light glint off its bevelled edges. He turned his attention to Cid and asked, "Did he say which motel or how much it would cost?"

Cid shook his head. "No, he didn't. Just said that he'd take care of it and that you shouldn't worry."

"Of course he did," Vincent mumbled begrudgingly. "I'll talk to him about it later."

Cid arched a brow as he looked upon his friend. "Ya know he's gonna tell ya the same thing he told me."

"He probably will," Vincent agreed. "But I would still like to talk to him at some point. Even if it is just to catch up with him and what he has been busy with." He lifted his glass and finished off the remainder of its contents. "And then I just have to figure out what to do with myself," he said, setting the glass down and sliding it away from himself.

Cid exhaled and reached out to squeeze Vincent's shoulder. "Just take it easy. I know yer feelin' good and all, but ya did just get outta the hospital. Take some time fer yerself. Do some things that you wanna do fer you fer once, not fer everyone else. You deserve that much." He removed the cigarette from between his lips to flick the accumulated ashes into the ashtray before him. "Ya gotta let yerself enjoy some things, Vince. Ya don't gotta live like a monk all the time."

Vincent nearly grimaced at the idea. Sitting idle with no future plans frequently left him feeling lazy, a feeling he never fancied, hence why he remained on the move when possible. There was always one more mission, another task that needed to be tended to. However, now that the planet was safe from the recent danger that had posed it, he was unsure what that next task for him was. "Feels hard not to. Old habits and all." 

"Some habits need to be broken," Cid countered.

"Like your smoking?"

"Now let's not get too carried away."

Vincent gently rolled his eyes but smiled none the less. "Of course."

"What are you two going on about now?" Tifa asked as she reentered the room, Vincent's belongings cradled in her slender arms.

"Asking Cid if he will quit smoking."

Tifa barked a laugh out loud. "You would have better luck trying to brush the teeth of a Marlboro."

"Very funny," Cid said before taking another pull off his cigarette.

"And yet true." Tifa smirked and set down the items on the bar top. "Here you go. The gun is a bit scuffed up, but I didn't dare try to clean it. I don't know enough about them, so I didn't want to do something that would damage it more."

"That's fine by me, Tifa. You've done enough by holding them here for me. Thank you." He inspected the gun first, looking it over for any damage that would need to be tended to. "Doesn't look too bad overall. I'll have to take a closer look at it when I get the tools to do so." He felt relief having his sidearm with him again. He slid the gun back into its holster and wrapped the band around it to clip it in place. "Thanks again, Tifa."

"It was no trouble," Tifa said with a warm smile. "Would you like another drink?"

Vincent grabbed his phone and looked it over for any damage as well. "I don't necessarily need one, but I suppose it wouldn't hurt." He looked to Cid and asked, "Do you have to get going soon?"

"Nope, no plans today," Cid confirmed. "We can have another drink. Then I can drive ya over to the motel."

"You'd best not be doing much drinking if you're driving," Tifa reprimanded as she shook a finger at the pilot. She grabbed the bottle from earlier and refilled Vincent's glass and slid it back in front of him. "I'd rather you have your wits about you, so you don't put Vincent back into the hospital, or yourself and anyone else for that matter."

Cid rolled his eyes and stubbed the cigarette out in the ashtray provided for him. "Yeah, yeah. Yer right," he yielded. "Guess I'll have ta go an' make myself some tea instead."

Tifa pointed her thumb in the direction of the kitchen. "You know where everything is." As Cid rose from his seat to head to the kitchen, Tifa recapped the bottle and asked of Vincent once more, "Are you sure you don't want anything to eat? It would be no trouble."

Vincent smiled and shook his head. "No, but thank you, Tifa. I'm fine for now. As it is, you look as though you have enough to do here before you open up again for the day. You don't need to go to the trouble of getting me food." He lifted his glass and nodded to the hallway he and Cid had walked through upon entering the bar. "But I will help you with those boxes you have set out there."

"You're going to do no such thing," Tifa said with a waggle of her finger in his direction. "You just got out of the hospital."

"And I'm doing quite well, thank you. I can move some boxes."

"You will not."

Vincent arched a brow. "Are you going to allow me to pay for these drinks I've had?"

Tifa frowned and crossed her arms over her chest. "No. That's on the house."

Vincent smiled and said, "Then I will help with the boxes," and took a swig from his glass.

The barmaid sighed and dropped her arms in defeat. "Fine, fine. I won't argue with you. Just don't push yourself." She shook her head and added, "I think you're spending just a bit too much time around Cid. You're beginning to get his stubborn streak."

"What can I say? He's an excellent tutor," Vincent quipped and took a sip of his drink. 

Tifa chuckled at the comment and picked up the bottle to place it back on the shelf. "You can say that again."

Over the next couple hours, Vincent, Cid, and Tifa worked to clean up the bar area and put all the stock into its proper places. Shelves were dusted, washed down, and filled with the new bottles. Crates of empty bottles were taken to a storeroom in the back, and the empty boxes were broken down and taken outside to be thrown into the recycling bins. By the time they were done, all three were ready for a break and something to eat, even Vincent. Tifa whipped up a small meal within a short amount of time, and soon enough, the trio took their seats at a table and dug into the food while sharing light-hearted conversation. By the time that they were done their food, Vincent found himself rubbing his eyes in an attempt to wipe away the fatigue that had suddenly settled in. 

"Are you alright, Vincent?" Tifa asked.

"Yeah. I just feel a bit tired, though I'm not sure why."

"Because we just finished doin' a bunch o' work?" Cid spoke dryly as he looked at the man over the rim of his glass.

"Hardly enough to make me feel tired," Vincent retorted.

"You _did_ just get out of the hospital," Tifa reminded him once again. "I know you said you're feeling good, but you still went through a lot." A slender hand came out to gently pat Vincent's hand that was resting upon the table. "Why don't you head to the motel and get some rest? I don't need any more help here, and what you two have done already has been more than enough."

"I'd say that's a good plan," Cid spoke before Vincent had a chance to dispute the idea. "Won't hurt ta go and have a rest fer a while."

Vincent's shoulders sunk as he exhaled, surrendering to the idea that perhaps he needed more rest after all. Truthfully he knew this wasn't a bad thing, and it wasn't as though he had any business to rush off to, so resting was, in fact, a good idea. It was merely the sensation of not being quite well that had him bothered him. On any other occasion, no matter how harrowing a battle or activity may have been, Vincent had always been able to bounce back quickly and continue on as if nothing had happened. Now, though he was only dealing with fatigue, it was enough to make him feel as if he had become weak in some small manner. "I believe you both are correct."

"Good." Tifa leaned over and pressed a kiss to the side of Vincent's head. "You run along then, and we will catch up again later. You can come back again tomorrow if you would like."

"I just might do that," Vincent spoke as he rose from his chair. He picked up his jacket and slung it over his shoulders and slipped his arms into the sleeves in one smooth movement. "Just give me a call and let me know when it would be a good time to meet up." Just as the words left him, he pulled the phone out of his pocket and flicked it open with his thumb to turn it on. As he suspected, nothing happened. "I'll be sure to get a charger for this before that time comes."

"We'll get ya one on the way to the motel," Cid replied as he put his own jacket on. "I think they're pretty easy ta find around here." Cid looked to Tifa and asked, "Want any help puttin' this away?" with a nod to the table.

"No, I've got this," Tifa said with a dismissing wave of her hand. "Now that everything else is done, I can tend to these few things just fine. You two run along and make sure Vincent gets settled in okay. We'll see you again tomorrow if all works out."

Tifa walked out back with the two, thanking them once more for their help and giving both men a hug before slipping back inside to tend to the dishes. Vincent slid into the passenger seat of the vehicle and leaned his head against the window, looking out at the passing buildings as Cid drove him to his new temporary residence. He closed his eyes to relax for the remainder of the drive, and that was when he felt a hand gripping his shoulder and jostling him. "Hmm?"

"I said we're here," Cid spoke. "I'd let ya sleep, but sleepin' in a truck ain't gonna do ya any good."

Vincent blinked in a rather owlish manner. "We're here already?" Vincent asked, a sense of bewilderment coming over him as he looked over his surroundings. 

Cid nodded, looking amused. "That's what I just said."

"I fell asleep?"

"Ya did, and pretty damn quick, I'll say. Damn, ya must've been tired."

"I'd say so." Vincent leaned forward to look out the window to the building they were parked by. "This is where I'm staying?"

"That's what the message said," Cid confirmed. "C'mon, let's go and check out yer room."

Vincent nodded in confirmation and slipped out of the vehicle to head inside the hotel. It was a quaint-looking place, nothing too fancy, which was something he was used to and often preferred. They quickly stopped at the front desk, and Vincent asked for the information on his reservation. Within a short amount of time, Vincent had his keycard and papers in hand and was walking down the hallway to one of the main floor rooms. Upon reaching his room, he swiped the card through the reader and stepped through the threshold. It was a simply decorated room with all the usual amenities that were often found in motels and places he stayed when he travelled. Vincent set his items onto the desk as he looked around the small space. "I know it's not fancy, but I still feel like I'm being spoiled by having Reeve arrange this." 

"Nothin' wrong with bein' spoiled every once in a while," Cid replied. "You deserve it. So enjoy it fer a bit. You did yer part fer the city."

"I suppose," Vincent replied as he walked to the window. He looked into the distance to where he knew the damage from the battle was being tended to. "A part of me still wishes more could have been done to prevent the worst of the damage."

Cid exhaled softly and quietly walked over to the other to stand at his side. "I know ya don't often think this of yerself, but yer only human. There was only so much that you and all o' us could've done. So stop beatin' yerself up. It could've been a lot worse."

"I know," Vincent spoke quietly. Vincent flinched and gasped at the sharp sting of his arm being pinched by the other. "I said I know," he replied, swatting away Cid's hand so he could rub the now burning spot.

"Wasn't convincin' enough," Cid responded. "And I'm gonna keep doin' that every time ya talk like that. Got it?"

"Yessir, Chief," Vincent said mockingly and turned to walk to the bed and take a seat. He let out a breath as he sat and scanned the room over once again. "I suppose I'll just hang out here for a while until I figure out what to do."

"Somethin' will come up. Don't worry." Cid stepped over to the bed and reached into his pocket to pull out a small packet from within it. "Here," he said and handed over the new phone charging cord and block for Vincent. "Better take this before I walk outta here with it."

Vincent paused and took the item handed to him. "When did you get this?"

"When you were sleepin' in the truck, o' course."

"Just how deep was I sleeping on the way here?" Vincent inquired. It usually took Vincent ages to get to sleep, and the slightest noises often awoke him, and yet somehow, this was not the case for the ride to the motel.

"Deep enough, I guess," Cid said with a smirk. "But ya obviously needed it. With that bein' said, ya might as well slip into bed and get some rest."

"I guess so," Vincent said and leaned over to set the package on the nightstand. "Will I be seeing you later?"

"If that's what ya want, you bet. Like I said, I got an empty schedule fer the next while."

A small smile tugged at the corner of Vincent's lips. "Good to know." It gave him some relief to know that Cid was going to be around. Granted this didn't surprise him either. Cid, though as crass as he could be at times, had always been supportive and helpful to him, and always seemed to make himself available if he needed it. It was more than Vincent could ask for, and more than what he often felt deserving of, but he was glad for the companionship none the less. A part of him didn't want Cid to leave so soon, but he knew he couldn't ask for him to stay either. It didn't seem fair to request Cid to remain with him while he simply rested. "I suppose I will see you later then."

"You got it," Cid said, winking at him. The blonde turned on his heel and started for the door. As he set his hand on the doorknob, he hesitated long enough to turn his head to glance over his shoulder and say, "Gimme a call when ya wake up. We can go do somethin' after if ya want."

"Sure. I'll do that," Vincent said. "I'll see you later."

Cid awarded the other a smile before stepping out and shutting the door behind him.

Vincent stared at the door for some time after Cid departed before he turned his attention to the bed, focusing on what he should be doing. He needed to rest, and his phone needed to be charged. With this in mind, Vincent opened up the package containing the necessary items and plugged his phone into the available outlet built into the lamp's base on the nightstand by the bed. Vincent sat down on the edge of the bed and glanced over his hands once again, still astonished at how well the medications had reversed the years of damage done to him. Vincent only hoped that the tingling sensation and rash would soon disappear. Then again, it was a small price to pay, he told himself. After all, he could have ended up with more scars. Deciding not to think on it any longer, Vincent let his body fall to the side and allowed himself to sink into slumber.


	3. Chapter 3

The entirety of Vincent's body jerked as it often did when waking from a nightmare. Aside from the bellowing of his name that had ultimately awoken him, he could not remember what the nightmare had been about. While he was thankful that he could not recollect what horrors had haunted him as he slept, he couldn't help but curse the fact that his subconscious would not give him a day of rest. 

Vincent was just starting to come to his senses when a sudden knock at the door startled him, the noise prompting him to stiffen. "Dammit," he mumbled to himself as he struggled to get up and off the bed. One arm was partially numb from being pinned between himself and the mattress, and his body ached from the position he had been sleeping in, but he knew that would soon subside. Vincent momentarily struggled to regain control of his body, but soon enough was walking to the door to answer it.

"Hey," Cid spoke as Vincent opened the door. The pilot stared at him, and soon his expression morphed into one of amusement. "I woke ya, didn't I?"

Vincent blinked slowly. "Maybe. What gave it away?" he asked.

"I'm guessin' ya didn't look in a mirror before ya came to the door, hu?" Cid said, grinning.

Vincent huffed and stepped back into the room, giving Cid room to come inside. "Not exactly."

"Well, it's a sight and a half, I'll say that much," said Cid, closing the door behind him. 

Curious, Vincent ventured over to the mirror by the desk and almost jumped, and it wasn't due to the sight of his dreadfully dishevelled hair. For a moment, his partly blurred vision tricked him into believing there were cuts along his face and his arm, the one that was still currently regaining feeling. He lifted a hand to rub over his face and blinked several times to clear his vision enough to realized it was simply marks made from the sheets and pillow.

"You okay?" Cid asked. "Yanno, I was just teasin' when I said ya looked scary. Didn't think you'd actually freak yerself out."

"Hu? Oh, no, it's... it's nothing. I was just imagining things," Vincent answered and walked to the bed to sit down on the end of it. "Just give me a few minutes to wake up a bit more."

"Dang. Ya must'a slept hard to be this out of it. Want me to make ya some tea?"

"Sure. I think I may need the caffeine boost," Vincent said as he rubbed his face. He groaned gently and began to rub his left arm to rid the last of the tingling sensation he could feel. Vincent squinted as he looked to the window, noting it was just as sunny as it was when he had gone to sleep. "What time is it anyway?"

"Just a little after ten, I think," Cid spoke. Cid looked into the basket that contained the teabags and filed through them with his fingers, only to huff in disgust after looking at the selection. "Guess I shouldn't be surprised that they'd leave out the cheap shit."

"Ten?" Vincent asked, ignoring the rest of Cid's comment. "It can't be."

"Pretty sure it is." Cid pulled out his phone from his jacket pocket and looked at the time to double-check. "Yeah, it is. Just ten after."

Vincent's brows furrowed, his face conveying disbelief. "No," he insisted and looked back to the window, pointing to it. "It's never that bright out that late at night."

Cid cocked a brow as he looked over his shoulder at the other. "Vince, it's ten in the _mornin'_, not night."

Vincent's eyes widened in incredulity. He turned to face the other. "What?"

"Yeah. I wouldn't lie about somethin' like that." Cid stepped over to the bed and pulled out his phone once again to show the other the time as proof. "When ya didn't call last night, I figured I'd leave ya be and come by in the mornin' instead. That's why I thought it'd be safe ta stop in now and see how you were doin'. Figured ya had to be awake by now." He set his hands on his hips and tipped his head as he looked at him. "How long've you been asleep?"

Vincent blinked slowly once again and looked to the bed where he had been lying before being abruptly awoken. "Since just after you left yesterday."

Now it was Cid's turn to look shocked. "Say what? That long?"

"I guess so," Vincent said, lifting a hand to rub the back of his neck. Ordinarily, Vincent could not go through the night without awakening a handful of times due to noises rousing him out of his light sleep, thanks to years of being a light sleeper and heightened senses always on alert for the indication of an approaching threat. He couldn't remember the last time he had slept more than five hours in a row, but to sleep for nearly sixteen hours had been a feat he hadn't been able to do since he had been a teenager. He couldn't even remember falling asleep or how long it took to do so. "I guess I needed the rest more than I realized..."

Cid chuffed at the comment. "I'd say so. No wonder ya looked outta it when ya answered the door."

"I suppose." Vincent shook his head, still baffled. "Now I know why you were yelling for me to get up. How long were you waiting for me to answer the door?" he asked.

"Yellin'?" Cid questioned. "What do ya mean?"

"You know, calling my name," Vincent said. "That's what woke me up. I thought it was a nightmare at first, but then I heard the knocking on the door."

Cid shook his head. "I wasn't yellin' fer ya, Vince. I mean, I _called_ fer ya through the door, askin' if you were awake, but I wasn't that loud."

Vincent hummed in thought as he scratched his scalp. "Maybe it was a nightmare after all. Or I just imagined it." 

"Eh, it happens. Maybe ya did hear me, but ya just imagined I was louder than I was. Ya always were a light sleeper."

"That's what I believed up until a few moments ago," said Vincent.

"Helps when there's no one or nothin' in the room ta make noises and wake ya up," Cid said, nudging Vincent's shoulder with his knuckles. "Blame it on the healin'."

Vincent grunted at the notion. "Perhaps," he muttered. 

Cid moved to kneel in front of the gunman so he was eye-level with the other, more or less, and lifted a calloused hand to gently comb back the tousled hair of Vincent's. He then set his hands upon Vincent's slender shoulders and lightly, reassuringly, squeezed. "Don't worry 'bout it, okay? It ain't important after all, right? Ya just had a good sleep fer once, that's all." 

The tactic worked as Vincent felt more at ease by the gentle gesture and words that whisked away his concerns like magic. "Yeah, you're right," he agreed. "I guess I should be focusing on a new day instead, shouldn't I?"

Cid grinned in his usual fashion. "That's the spirit," he said, patting Vincent's shoulder. He rose back up to a standing position and asked, "Why don't we go out fer breakfast? That way, ya get some food in ya and some better tea than the shit they got here."

Vincent smiled at the idea. "Sure. Sounds like a plan to me. Just give me some time to make myself presentable, and we can head out."

Once he had cleaned himself up, straightened out his hair, and brushed out the wrinkles in his clothing as best as he possibly could, Vincent departed the building alongside Cid. Vincent followed Cid's lead toward the restaurant across the street. It was a small but quaint little diner, something Vincent preferred over fancy and extravagant. Though others often professed it was worth it, Vincent never understood the reasoning behind spending dozens of Gil on a single meal. Food was food, and a meal that cost him ten gil versus fifty granted him nothing different other than a lighter wallet at the end of the day.

"Smells good in here," Cid commented as they slipped inside. 

"It does," Vincent agreed as they walked to sit in a booth by a window. He slid into his seat and folded his hands upon the table. "Have you been here before?"

"Not me," Cid answered. The pilot leaned back in a relaxed pose against the window frame, one leg out on the length of his seat and an arm draped over the back of the bench. "Just figured since it was close that we may as well come here."

"Works for me," the gunman replied as he scanned over the small interior. He questioned why it was empty, but then again, it was far past breakfast, and they were in a more quiet part of the city. "At least we shouldn't have to wait for our orders for too long."

A moment later, a man passed through a set of swinging doors, carrying with him two menus and a small notepad and pen. The man smiled at the two and set down the menus for them to read through. "Hello, hello. How can I help you both today?" he asked in a particularly strong Wutainese accent.

"I'll have some tea ta start," Cid spoke as he picked up the menu.

"Any particular kind?" 

"Whatever's the best kind in the house."

The waiter nodded and turned his attention to Vincent. "And for you?"

After a quick glance over the drink selection, Vincent asked, "Could I have a cup of black tea?"

"Certainly." The man jotted down the memo on his notepad then returned his attention to Vincent once again. He watched him closely for a moment before asking, "Sir, what is your name?" 

Vincent looked up, his attention bouncing between both Cid and the waiter until he realized it was he who was being asked the question. However, before he was able to answer, the waiter spoke again.

"You're the one who fought those soldiers, aren't you? The ones that attacked Kalm."

Momentarily rendered silent by the topic raised, Vincent was unable to answer the question asked of him, but this didn't seem to be an issue for the waiter as he continued to speak.

"You saved my life!"

While Vincent remained mute with surprise, Cid smirked, apparently amused by the exchange. "Is that so?"

The man smiled and nodded in response to Cid. "I was there with my children for the festival," the short man began to explain. "When the attack began, we didn't know what to do. There was so much chaos, so many people running around. So we ran too, and tried to find a place to hide." He looked to Vincent, pointing his pen at him. "It was you who saved us. We had been hiding in an alleyway, and those soldiers were coming for us. You stopped them before they could harm us." The man bowed to Vincent, smiling graciously to him. "Thank you so much. My family wouldn't be alive today if it wasn't for you."

Vincent was pleased but humbled by the statement as well. Once he was able to bring himself to speak, he said, "No thanks is necessary. I'm glad I was able to help you and your family."

"Please, is there anything I can offer you in thanks?" the man asked earnestly. "It is the least that I can do."

Vincent quickly brushed off the offer with a wave of his hand. "No, please, don't feel the need to do that. I didn't do it for a reward," he explained, hoping not to hurt the man's feelings in return. "Trust me, it's fine, but I thank you none the less for the kind thought." 

"Please, there must be something," the man insisted.

Vincent laughed softly, though it was mostly due to nervousness. "Honestly, there is nothing I require that you can give me. Serving our meal will be enough," he said with a nod to the table.

The man looked between the two and then smiled brightly and gave another bow of his head. "Yes, sir. Of course." He lifted the notepad and pen before him once again and asked, "What would you both like to eat?"

Within a moment, the two placed their order, and the man hurried away toward the kitchen, the muffled chattering of the order being read out to the cooks only just audible over the TV playing.

Vincent let out a breath and looked at Cid of whom was grinning from ear to ear as he looked at him. "What?"

"Nothin'. Just thinkin' o' how cute ya look when yer all flustered."

A wave of red flushed over Vincent's face, and his foot shot out to kick Cid before he realized he was doing so. "Shut up," he muttered under his breath as he turned his attention out the window beside him.

Cid cackled at the reaction and straightened up in his seat. "Alright, alright, I'll stop teasin'. Sheesh, thank Gaia ya don't have them damned spiked boots anymore," he said, rubbing his shin. "That could'a done some damage."

"Be thankful you were sitting, too," Vincent added, crossing his arms. "I could have kicked something else."

The waiter soon returned with each of their drinks and the cutlery they would need for their meal. The two managed to have a few sips from their tea before the meals were brought, and soon enough, they both dug into a hearty breakfast of eggs, bacon, shredded hashbrowns, and toast along with some tea. Vincent didn't think he would be able to finish even half of what was on his plate, and yet, to his surprise, he somehow managed to finish all but a singular piece of toast off.

"Ya must've been starvin'," Cid commented as he watched Vincent push his plate to the side. "I don't think I've ever seen ya eat that much in one day, let alone one sittin'."

"I was thinking the same thing," Vincent admitted. He pulled his cup of tea in front of him and wrapped both his hands around it. "Maybe there was something more to that 'miracle' treatment they gave me in the hospital."

Cid chuckled. "Hey, that could be. If it is, I'd say that's a welcomed side effect." Cid took a sip of his tea before changing the topic by asking, "So what do ya wanna do today?"

"I'm not too sure," Vincent admitted as he looked into the auburn coloured liquid inside his cup. "If I had the money to do so, the easiest thing to start with would be to get myself some more clothes. I need those more than anything else."

"That's easy enough," Cid replied. He looked out of the window they were seated next to. "There's a couple places a few blocks down that way where we can look. That's where I found those ones fer ya," he said with a nod of his head to the other. "So, we can knock that one off the list today, easy enough."

"We could, but as I said, I need to get some money first in order to do that."

"I can cover that," Cid said, waving his hand. "Don't worry."

"No, you won't," Vincent disputed.

"Can so."

"No, you _won't._ You have done so much for me as it is."

Cid leaned back in his seat and raised a brow in a challenging fashion. "And yer point is?"

"That you've done plenty, and that's all there is to it." Vincent lifted his cup to his lips and was about to take a sip of his tea when Cid picked up a sugar cube from the dish in front of him and flicked it at Vincent's forehead. The small item smacked Vincent between the eyes, and from there, it dropped into his cup, splashing a small amount of tea onto the gunman's face and his hand. The gunman groaned and set his cup down and reached for a napkin. "Are you pleased with yourself now?"

"Quite," Cid said, grinning. "Gotta admit, that was a damned neat trick I just did."

"Uh hu." Vincent dried off his face, and once Cid started to take a sip of his tea, Vincent took the opportunity to reach over and flick the bottom of it, giving Cid a taste of his own medicine. "There. Now we're even."

Cid snorted and wiped the tea off his face with his hand. "Yanno, ya just wasted some good tea."

"I had tea too. That didn't stop you."

"Yeah, well, my tea was better than yers," Cid countered. He smirked lightly and motioned to the front with a jerk of his head. "C'mon. Let's get outta here before they decide ta just throw us out."

"Now that I can agree with." He slid out of the booth and walked to the counter with Cid. It wasn't but a moment later that the waiter from earlier returned and stepped behind the till.

"No need to pay. It's taken care of," the shorter man said with a kind smile. "My gift to you," he said, directing his attention to Vincent.

Vincent felt a pang of guilt within him at the statement. Please, you don't have to-"

"No, no, please, I insist," the man pleaded with a blocking motion of his hands. "This is the least I can do."

Not wanting to insult the man by refusing his charity, Vincent bowed his head in turn. "Thank you very much. You're too kind."

"No need to thank me," he said, smiling brightly. "Please, come back any time," the man spoke pleasantly.

"We'll probably see ya tomorrow mornin', if this one don't sleep in again," Cid said with a jab to Vincent's ribs. "Take care."

"You as well. Have a good day!" the man said with a wave then shuffled off to clean off their table.

Vincent stepped outside with the other, exhaling deeply as he looked inside. "I feel bad."

"Why?" Cid asked. "He just wanted ta show his gratitude."

"I know," Vincent said. "I'm just not used to that kind of thing."

"One way or another, someone was payin' for it," Cid pointed out.

"And that's part of the problem," Vincent said with a pointed look to Cid. "I don't like feeling like a charity case. That's why I want to try and get some money so I can pay my own way."

Cid moved to stand against a lamppost and pulled out his pack of cigarettes from his pocket, along with his favoured zippo lighter. "And how are ya gonna do that?"

Vincent shrugged and slipped his hands into his pockets. "I made my money by doing my hunts and the like when I travelled. That's the only way I've earned a living during the last years. I could always go and do that again."

"Ya don't really wanna jump back into that life right now, do ya?" Cid questioned. 

"Not exactly," Vincent admitted with the hint of a grimace. It wasn't the most comfortable lifestyle, but it was the only way he knew how to after so long. Things that people considered to be necessities for everyday life, such as having a home or a bank account, was far from his daily norm, and now he felt incredibly unprepared to tend to his own needs. "But it's not like I have a choice."

"Well ya do have a choice," Cid countered. He took a drag from his cigarette as he replaced the items back into his pocket. "You can stay in the motel until ya come up with a plan of what ya wanna do. Until then, I'll help ya get what ya need in the meantime."

"I don't want to take advantage of your generosity, Cid."

"It ain't takin' advantage if I'm offerin' it willingly." He nudged the other's leg with the toe of his boot. "I know yer not that kind o' guy. So, until ya got a plan in mind, I'll help ya out. And if yer _that_ hot and bothered about it, you can pay me back when ya get back on yer feet."

"Are you sure you have that much to cover my needs on top of your own?" Vincent questioned.

Cid raised a brow as he let the plume of smoke escape him. "Do I look like a man that lives the high life?" he asked. "I got more coin sittin' in the bank that I know what ta do with. I may as well put it to use."

Vincent hummed to himself. As much as he despised taking charity from others, he knew he could at least trust Cid to not use such a thing as leverage against him later. "Alright. I'll accept your help until I find a way to repay you."

"Alright. But like I said, ya really don't gotta worry about that," Cid said. 

Vincent looked at Cid, sharing a firm glance with him. "It's the right thing to do. And I want to repay you once I get the ability to do so. You've done a lot for me, not just now but also in the past as well when we first met. It's time I start repaying that debt."

Cid grunted in response as he puffed on the cigarette. "How 'bout ya repay me by bein' happy? No amount o' money'd be able to amount up ta that, and I'd like that reward more than the cash."

To say he was surprised by Cid's words would have been an understatement. Cid was not one who spoke such heartwarming sentiments on a regular basis. As it was, he could only remember a handful of times that Cid had said things along a similar vein, and that had been over the course of a few years. This, from Vincent's point of view, only reinforced the idea that Cid's words were genuine and not to be taken lightly. With that in mind, he decided to yield on his pledge to reimburse the man one day, at least for the time being. "Alright... I can do that."

Cid smiled broadly. "Good. I didn't want ta have ta fight ya on the matter." He shoved off the lamppost using his shoulder and nudged Vincent with his elbow. "Now that that's settled, let's go get ya some more clothes."

Soon enough, the two were on their way to find Vincent a new selection of clothes, an endeavour that Vincent never truly enjoyed, hence why he often wore the same attire for long periods of time. Thankfully, the process went rather quickly thanks to the help of the pilot as he seemed to pick out just the right things for him wherever they looked. Before he knew it, a selection of shirts, pants, and other necessities had been piled into a cart for Vincent to try on. After spending a short amount of time in the dressing room trying out the outfits to see if they were the correct size, the items were bagged up and handed off to Vincent while Cid paid the bill.

"I can't believe how much these clothes cost," Vincent said, eyeing the bags he carried as they stepped out onto the street.

"Don't go feelin' guilty again. Ya needed them," Cid replied.

"I know I did. I guess it just goes to show how little I invested in clothes shopping back in my day."

"What? Stuck ta wearin' one thing back then too, hu?" Cid teased.

Vincent rolled his eyes, but he managed to smile regardless. "In a matter of speaking, I suppose. A perk of working jobs where uniforms are provided for you. When yours are no longer good or need cleaning, you just turned them in and use a new set provided."

"Makes sense." Cid looped the bags on his arms as he proceeded to pull out his pack of cigarettes as they walked toward their vehicle. "So where do ya wanna go now? Wanna look around some more or head back to the hotel?"

Vincent quickly fell in step beside the other and began to mull over his options, as few as there were. "I don't think I need to look for more clothes. What I have here will do me for a while, provided I can get access to a laundromat at some point. There are some minor things I could shop for yet, but there is no rush to get them right at this moment. I can always do that by myself." His own words prompted a thought to arise, and so he turned to look at Cid and asked, "Is there anywhere you need to be right now? Or anything you have to tend to?"

"Nope," Cid answered as he exhaled a cloud of smoke. "My schedule's wide open."

"To be honest, I am surprised," Vincent admitted. "For as long as I've known you, you always seemed to have something on the go or someone in need of your assistance. Why the sudden lull?"

"I do have somethin' ta tend to. He's walkin' right beside me." The grin Cid flashed was not his usual mischievous one, but rather an affectionate one. "I told people once you were up and out o' the hospital that I was gonna be stayin' by you until ya got back on yer feet and were settled again. I had a feelin' you were gonna need some help, so I made sure I was gonna be available. So don't worry. I got nothin' but time."

Once again, Vincent was surprised by Cid's reply, and yet he felt relief with the knowledge Cid provided. Though Vincent was accustomed to tending to his own affairs alone, it had been a nice change of pace to have the pilot's companionship. It brought him comfort to know that Cid was willing to do this for him and that he was evidently happy to do so. "Thank you, Cid. I appreciate that," he spoke warmly.

"No problem, Vince."

Vincent fell silent as he walked with Cid to the truck, his thoughts straying into the clouds as he counted the blessings he'd been granted over the last while. The fact that he had survived the numerous battles as he had, particularly when trying to stop Omega was a miracle in and of itself. He considered himself more than lucky to have managed to come out relatively unscathed from it all, both physically and mentally. As harrowing as it all had been, it could have ended so much worse. This and the fact that he had such supporting figures like Cid after this event left him feeling grateful.

"Somethin' wrong?"

Cid's voice cut through Vincent's thoughts like a hot knife, derailing his train of thought. He only then realized they had reached the truck. "Sorry. My mind just started to wander." 

"Yeah, I noticed. Did it go anywhere exciting, at least?"

"No, not especially," Vincent answered. He shook his head to rid himself of the lingering thoughts and instead refocused the entirety of his attention upon Cid. "So, where should we go next?"

"Anywhere ya want," Cid said, leaning against the cab of the truck. "Like I said, I got nothin' but time."

"Mmm. Well, I may as well get the other necessities I'm going to need for a while since we're already in the area to collect such things. After that, we could find a place to stop for lunch?" Vincent offered.

Cid smiled and stuck the cigarette between his lips once again. "Sounds like a plan ta me. Lead the way."


	4. Chapter 4

The days that followed were rather uneventful, and Vincent could not have been more pleased with this fact. After the recent battle, a little monotony was just what he needed. Though there were moments where his mind reflected upon the events that had unfolded during that time, Cid had an uncanny ability to sense when he was doing such a thing and managed to divert his attention to something else. This wasn't a bad thing, Vincent concluded. The days were not entirely void of any activities, however. Cid, staying true to his word, made it his duty to visit and take him out on the town at least once a day rather than leaving him to remain cooped up in a motel all day long. The outings were not grand by any means and mostly consisted of walks among the city and stopping in at different diners for a meal, but this did not bother the gunman one bit. 

The only thing that he could say that did bother him, or took him by surprise more precisely, was the admiration and gratitude he was met with during random encounters. Much like the interaction with the waiter at the diner, similar scenarios had played out a few times while wandering the city, all of which involved someone recognizing Vincent as the person that had saved them or someone they knew. Upon each of these encounters, he was offered a token of gratitude to which Vincent attempted to graciously turn down. Yet each time his request was ignored, and he was given a gift regardless. So far, during the handful of encounters, he had received a small parcel of homemade treats from a street vendor, a flavoured coffee from a barista at a coffee shop they visited, and a voucher to one of the local clothing stores. Vincent was unsure how to feel about such attention. 'Enjoy it,' Cid had told him. Admittedly, Vincent did find himself enjoying the limelight to a degree, but it was accompanied by a sense of guilt. Usually, this would have deterred Vincent from wanting to go out, but the urge to do so was dulled. Even if he did want to hide away, Vincent was confident that Cid would not allow this to happen anyway. He did, however, decide to avoid the public eye for the morning at least, and he felt the best way to do this was to stop in and visit Tifa once again.

Just like the previous visit, Cid parked at the back of the building so the two could slip in the private entrance. This time they did not catch Tifa by surprise as she clearly heard the sound of footsteps coming down the hallway into the bar area. "Hello!" Tifa greeted cheerily as the two came inside. She set the tray of glasses she had been carrying and gave Vincent a hug. "It's good to see you again so soon."

"Likewise," Vincent replied and returned the hug offered. "I hope you've been well."

"I have been, thank you." Tifa released him and waved a hand for them to take a seat at the bar. "What brings you to this side of town?"

"Where's my hug?" Cid interjected as he leaned against the end of the bar.

Tifa turned to look at the pilot, settling her hands on her hips and tipping her head. "Why? Do you _want_ a hug?" she asked, almost an impish glint in her eyes.

"That ain't the point. It's the principle," he said, pointing at the woman.

Tifa arched a brow. "Well, you and your principle aren't exactly cuddly in nature."

"I can be cuddly," Cid challenged.

"Oh, absolutely. Like a cactus." As Cid grumbled, Tifa snorted but gave in and offered the man a hug as well. "Feel better?"

"A little. Though I think I might need some booze ta fix the feelin' ya hurt."

Tifa snorted and lightly smacked the man's chest with the back of her hand. "Maybe try healing it with some tea first before you jump to the hard stuff." She returned her attention to Vincent, her smile brightening once more. "Like I said, I'm glad you came back to visit so soon. Here I feared that it would be another month or so before we did."

Vincent grunted softly and took a seat upon one of the barstools after Tifa pulled away. "Perhaps in the past, yes, but I am attempting to refrain from falling back into such habits once again."

Tifa smiled as she moved alongside Vincent. "I hope you're able to keep to that. It would be nice to see you around more. The kids would like that too, I'm sure."

"Where are the kids anyway?" Cid asked as he strode toward the kitchen to make some tea.

"Out with some friends, but they might be back soon," she said to Cid before he was out of earshot. She looked to Vincent and continued, "They were going to be playing with some friends at the park. If I had known that you were coming, I would have told them to wait here for a while longer."

"That's fine," Vincent replied. "I won't be leaving the area any time soon. I'll be able to see them one of these days."

"Of course." Tifa took a seat on a barstool herself before asking, "So what have you been doing lately?"

"Not much, to be honest. Cid's kept me company and taken me out shopping for a few things here and there. Overall there's not too much I can do or get until I have a place of my own and have a steady income to pay for the things that I need."

"A place of your own?" Tifa asked, confused. "Do you mean you're planning on finding a place to stay permanently?" When Vincent nodded, Tifa expression conveyed pleasant surprise. "I'm shocked. I didn't think I would see the day that you would want to stay in one place."

"To tell the truth, I didn't think I would have wanted that either," he said as he ran his hand along the polished cherrywood bartop. "It's odd. For the first few days out of the hospital, I kept thinking about heading back out on my own, believing it would be easy to drop back into my old routine, but..." He chuffed a weak laugh and said, "The next thing I knew, the appeal to such an idea was slipping away. I guess I've finally outgrown that way of life."

"That's not a bad thing, if you ask me," Tifa said, smiling. "I know it's what made you feel most comfortable back then, but it couldn't have been easy."

"It had both its advantages and disadvantages," Vincent confessed, "but I was different back then. After this last battle... I came to realize just how much I was still living in the past and how I was letting myself remained chained to those memories." Vincent looked down to his scar-free hand and rubbed the skin as he reflected upon the memories that were still, in many ways, fresh and raw within his mind. He gently scratched the skin at the thought of them. "I just can't let myself regress to that point again."

Tifa hummed gently and reached out to place a hand on Vincent's. "I'm glad to hear that, Vincent. Just know that you have all of us to turn to if you need help with anything."

Vincent looked up and into the woman's eyes, nodding. "I know. I won't forget." Not even a second after Vincent spoke, he looked into his jacket as the phone within his breast pocket started ringing at a loud volume. Tifa pulled her hand back as Vincent reached into his jacket to pull out the device, quickly reading the name on the screen before he flipped the phone open and answered. "Hello, Reeve. Taking a break from work already?"

A soft laugh came through the speaker. "Just for a while, yes. I wanted to check in with you and see how you have been faring since we last spoke. Is it possible we could meet up, say in the next half hour?"

"Seeing as how I have nothing but time to kill, yes. Where would you like to meet?"

"If you would like, I am just downtown, outside of Tifa's bar. Would you like to meet there? Are you in the area?"

Vincent blinked and slowly turned to look out the window of the bar. Sure enough, he could see Reeve standing outside, facing the street. "Oh, I'm in the area, alright," he deadpanned. "I'll see you inside." Vincent hung up the phone and tucked it back into his pocket. Outside he could see Reeve look to his phone and shrug before he walked inside. As Reeve stepped in, Vincent waved to him, causing Reeve to momentarily freeze and process what he was seeing. 

Reeve laughed and ventured over. "When you said you were in the area, I didn't think you meant this close."

"The feeling is mutual. I didn't think I would be seeing you any time soon considering how busy you've been," Vincent replied.

"As busy as I can get, I do try to always make time to check in on old friends." He held out his hand to Vincent, giving a firm shake. "It's good to see you again." Reeve leaned to the side to look past him and say, "The same goes to you, Tifa."

"Hello, Reeve," Tifa greeted. "How have you been?"

"Quite well, overall," the commissioner spoke as he took a seat to Vincent's right. "Considering everything that happened, things are coming together better than what I had expected."

"Glad to hear it. Would you like some tea?"

"Yes, that would be wonderful. Thank you." As Tifa departed to the kitchen to see how Cid was progressing with the tea, Reeve turned his attention to Vincent and asked, "And how are you, Vincent? You look as though you are doing well."

"I am, actually," Vincent confirmed. "I've been dealing with a few small ailments, but nothing I can't live with."

"Oh? Such as?" Reeve asked, the concern immediately noticeable on his face.

"Don't worry, it's nothing serious," Vincent started once he saw the look on Reeve's face. "I'm just dealing with some ringing in the ears and a rash," he said, lifting his hand to show off the rash that continued to linger. 

"I see. I'm sorry to hear that. Have you ever had issues with any of these troubles before?"

"The nurse said that the rash could be from an allergic reaction to the bandages. As for ringing in my ears..." Vincent shook his head after a moment of thought. "If I did, then it was from a time that I don't remember."

"I see," Reeve said, almost sounding disappointed at the answer. "I'm sorry that is the case. Perhaps it is residual damage from the battle?"

"That's the only guess I have," Vincent concurred. "On the bright side, my scars were healed, and I've been sleeping more soundly than I can ever recall. I can't even remember when I fall asleep, it just happens so quick. For the first time in a long time, I actually feel rested when I wake up. "

"Sounds like a decent trade-off to me," Reeve commented.

"That's how I felt," Vincent said with a smile. "Though there are moments I sit and wonder how long it will take for the side effects to stop, it's a small inconvenience in my life. It is amusing in its own way that every other wound of mine could be healed, but not the damage done to my ears."

"It is unfortunate." Reeve turned to lean against the bar and folded his hands together as he settled his weight against it. "Treatments can often be fickle in that regard. Would you feel better getting it looked into? I could arrange it for you."

Vincent quickly waved a hand at the offer. "No, but thank you for the offer. It's not something detrimental to my wellbeing so much as it is annoying upon occasion. However, if it gets to the point where I cannot function due to it, then I may take you up on that offer." Having just gotten out of the hospital, Vincent did not plan to go back into one so soon, even if it was for nothing more than a check-up. 

"I'll hold you to that." As Cid and Tifa emerged from the kitchen with the tea and cups in tow, Reeve smiled greeted Cid as well. "Good day, Cid. You're looking rather well."

"No more or less than usual," Cid replied as he set down the tray on the bartop. "How 'bout you? How's work at the funny farm?"

"More or less the same as it usually is, which is not a bad thing after what happened. I've been keeping busy with several projects, but as of late, I've been looking for a place for Vincent to stay."

Vincent paused as he reached for his cup of tea. "What?"

"For your efforts in fighting Deepground and defeating Omega, the ShinRa corporation is providing you with housing. Call it a 'thank you,' of sorts."

"That's great," Tifa chimed in. "We were just talking about him finding a place to stay. At least you won't have to worry about that now," she said with a soft touch to Vincent's shoulder.

"It's one worry off the list, at least," Cid agreed as he set the cups of tea in front of the two men.

Vincent struggled found himself struggling to find words. When he finally found them, they were ones filled with confusion, rendering him unable to ask anything with the exception of, "Why?"

"I just said why," Reeve stated. He blinked, seeming equally confused. "I'm sorry, did I not say it loud enough? I hope the tinnitus is not that bad."

Vincent fervently waved his hand. "No, no, it's not that. I mean, why me? What's so special about me that I get such a reward? I wasn't the only one fighting out there."

Reeve hummed gently and circled the edge of his cup with his index finger. "That may be true, but does this mean you are not deserving of such a thing regardless?" Reeve took the opportunity to continue as Vincent remained silent as he attempted concocting an answer. "You have not had a home for a long time, Vincent. You may not have given up more than anyone else, but that is because you had nothing in the first place to lose."

Vincent grunted gently and looked at the cup in front of him. "That shouldn't make a difference..."

"Maybe not to you, but you do deserve something as simple as a place to call home," Reeve countered. "Everyone else who served in the battle is already getting help where they need it, whether it be in terms of medical care or having their home remade. Now, it's your turn to be taken care of."

Ordinarily, Vincent would have turned down the idea of receiving aid and made a point of taking care of his own needs, but like many things as of late, he found his view and resolution changing in that respect. "Charity was not something he easily accepted, and yet a part of him agreed with Reeve's reasoning. "I'm not sure what to say. 'Thank you' doesn't seem to cover it."

Reeve smiled. "You do not need to say anything. We are happy to do this. A place has been secured for you, and the payments will be covered, so you need not worry about that either. It's yours if you like it."

Vincent's nose curled slightly. "With all due respect, Reeve, it's enough that you've taken the time to find a place for me, but I'm not sure I like the idea of ShinRa paying my way," Vincent commented.

"Why not?" Cid asked as he dropped a teaspoon's worth of sugar into his tea. "It ain't often someone gets the golden ticket from ShinRa corp. Take it while ya can."

"That's exactly why I'm wary," Vincent pointed out. "I feel as though one day, a favour would be expected of me in return."

"Like I said, it is no trouble," Reeve reassured. "I've taken care of it, and rest assured, there will be no need for reciprocation to the company."

Vincent hummed quietly in thought took a sip of the tea, as if hoping the drink would ease his worries. "I don't know..."

Unsure of what to suggest, Reeve said, "If you are set on trying to pay your own way, you could return to the Turks?"

Vincent cast a sneer at Reeve that would have put Hojo's to shame. From the side, Tifa snorted, and Cid momentarily struggled not to spit out the mouthful of drink he had after having witnessed the look. "Oof!" Cid spoke once he was able to, fighting back laughter. He looked to Reeve. "Now if looks could kill, yer guts would be paintin' the wall right now."

"I'm glad they can't," Tifa replied. "I just got them cleaned, after all."

Reeve rolled his eyes and said, "It was merely a suggestion."

"A suggestion I think I will pass on, but I thank you none the less," Vincent replied. "I'll figure something out."

"Perhaps I can get the paperwork tweaked in a way that allows you to receive payments as a retired Turk," Reeve mused aloud. "After all, I believe you were only marked as M.I.A., so it could be feasible."

"I'm not sure it would be so easy," Vincent replied. "Wouldn't such things have to be passed by the Director? I'm sure Tseng would notice my name coming up right away, and I wouldn't want you to get in trouble for it."

"There is nothing to fear, Vincent. I have been at ShinRa long enough to have a few favours owed to me, and what is the use of having favours that are never used?" 

"Reeve-"

The commissioner waved his hand and motioned to Vincent's cup. "Please do not worry. He owes me a couple favours, and I am sure that he would not oppose doing such a thing. I will work it out with him later. Now drink your tea before the good captain gives you grief over letting it get cold."

"We wouldn't want that happening," Cid said a moment before taking a sip of his own drink.

Reluctantly, Vincent surrendered the debate to Reeve. Perhaps it wasn't a terrible thing, He picked up his tea and said, "No, we wouldn't," and took a sip of his drink. "So, since you said you've already secured the place, I can take a look at it any time?"

"Yes, that is correct. That is why I wanted to meet up with you so we could possibly arrange a time for you to take a look at the place."

"Could check it out after we're done here," Cid replied. "Ain't like ya got too much goin' on anyway."

"That I don't," Vincent confirmed. "We can do that. Then perhaps I can start occupying my days with a bit more than occasional shopping."

"Ya make it sound like it was so horrible ta hang out with me," Cid said, smirking behind his cup.

"It can be, depending on the day," Reeve quipped, an impish glint in his eyes.

"Especially when he's out of cigarettes," Tifa added.

"And whiskey."

"Or both. That's even worse."

Cid gaped at the responses, his eyes shifting back and forth between the two. As the two smirked, he grumbled and tossed a glare at them. "Shuddup and drink yer damn tea," he groused before following his own advice.

Vincent snorted as Tifa and Reeve both shared a chuckle at Cid's expense. "Never a dull moment," he said aloud to himself more than anyone else. He took a sip of his tea and said, "Alright, we can finish up here and then you can show me to this new place. I'm somewhat curious as to what kind of place you have picked out for me," he said, glancing at Reeve out of the corner of his eyes.

Reeve smiled and replied with a simple response of, "One that I am hoping you will like to call home."


	5. Chapter 5

"It seems rather quiet in this building," Vincent commented as they stepped out of the elevator. It had been the first thing he had noticed above all else when first entering the building. The place itself was located in a sector of the city he could not recall visiting. Still, the area was not desolate by any means judging by the amount of activity around the exterior of the building, therefore making the lack of people present upon entering the building considerably noticeable. Upon entering the building, there had not been a soul to be seen minus that of the two attendants at the front desk who silently greeted them with a bow of their heads.

"It does, now that you mention it. "Is this a bad thing?" Reeve asked.

"No, not at all. It's nice actually," Vincent answered. "I had just thought that I would have been seeing other people by now."

"Perhaps it is simply due to the time of day. Many are probably at work, and their children would be at school." 

"Or it's because we're on the haunted floor," Cid added from behind the two.

Reeve looked over his shoulder, frowning. "What do you mean?" Reeve asked, baffled.

"We're on the thirteenth floor."

"It's the fourteenth floor," Reeve corrected.

Cid cast an unamused look at the commissioner. "Really, Reeve?"

Reeve rolled his eyes as he continued down the hallway. "Alright, even if we are technically on the thirteenth floor, that doesn't mean anything. Besides, that could mean it's lucky. Vincent's birthday is on the thirteenth."

"I don't think you're strengthening your argument by saying that, Reeve," Vincent countered immediately.

Reeve laughed softly at Vincent's response. He shrugged. "I think it does." Reeve came to a stop outside the apartment that would be Vincent's and withdrew his key to open the door. "Regardless of our dear pilot's observation, I hope this place will be to your liking."

Reeve stepped into the apartment, Vincent and Cid following after, respectively. The open-concept apartment had a modern look to it, the space painted in varied shades of blue and grey and accents of white. Straight forward into the room was the kitchen, and to the left of the entrance was the living room and dining area. A navy coloured chair and couch set already occupied the living room, along with pearl white coffee and end tables. As for the dining area, a dining table and chairs of matching colour and style as those in the living room was also ready and waiting to be used. New appliances and TV were also present within the apartment, as well as a bar area. Aside from these few things, the place seemed ready to be moulded with more personal touches for its future occupants.

"It is not an executive suite by any means, but I hope this will do for you. It's fully furnished, as you can tell," Reeve said as he walked to stand behind the couch stationed in the middle of the open area. "The same is the case for the bedroom, so you need not worry about furniture shopping. Down the hallway are your bedroom, bathroom, and storage closet. The only things you need to purchase really would be your everyday amenities. Food, linens, that sort of thing."

"Reeve, just how much does this place cost?" Vincent inquired as he took in the details of the place. 

"I told you not to be concerned about that for the time being," Reeve said. 

"I'm not concerned," Vincent said as he walked along the side of the kitchen counter, running his hand over the marble stone. "I'm just curious. There's a difference."

Reeve chuckled. "I must say, you certainly are persistent. I believe you're spending a bit too much time with our dear pilot."

"Ya make that sound like it's a bad thing," Cid chirped from where he was inspecting the small bar area by the balcony doors. 

"Only on certain occasions," Reeve spoke, smirking.

"I'll remember that the next time ya send me ta haggle fer some o' that damned wine yer always askin' fer."

"Settle down now, children," Vincent remarked as he ventured toward the hallway to look at the rest of the apartment. "Let's not test how good the soundproofing is in this building. I'd rather not make enemies with my neighbours before I'm even settled in."

"He started it," Cid remarked.

Reeve's eyes rolled with subtle amusement. "Time has certainly not changed you much, has it, Cid?"

"Of course it has," Cid replied as he shut the door to the liquor cabinet that he had just finished inspecting. "I'm like a fine wine - getting better with age."

"I think you mean to say homemade moonshine - harsh and questionable," Reeve said, the glimmer of humour only just visible in his eyes.

"Sorry, what'd'ja say?" Cid stepped to Reeve's side and put a hand on Reeve's shoulder. "I don't speak bullshit."

"Says the man who is full of exactly that."

"Do I need to put you two in separate corners?" Vincent asked from down the hallway.

"Nah, we're good," Cid said. He reached up and ruffled Reeve's hair then quickly sidestepped to avoid Reeve's retaliatory smack with the back of his hand.

"I should hope so." If Vincent was to be honest, he found these rare moments shared between the two amusing. The child-like antics made him think of two brothers trying to one-up each other, which he knew was the case simply by the time they spoke to one another. Vincent came back down the hallway and looked around the room once more. "This place sure is nice."

"I'm glad you like it," Reeve said as he did his best to straighten out his hair. "I was hoping this would be to your liking, even if only for a while."

"I think this will work quite well for me. Thanks again, Reeve. If there's anything I can do to pay you back-"

Reeve held up a hand and stopped Vincent in his tracks. "Please, don't mention it, Vincent. It was my pleasure to do this for you," he reassured him. "Just enjoy the place, and do let me know if there's anything you need help with or have any questions about." Reeve pulled back the sleeve on his jacket and looked at his watch. "Now, as much as I would like to stay and mingle, I do have to get going and tend to some other matters. Just as I'm sure you need to as well. So if you don't mind, I will be on my way." Reeve stepped over to Vincent and handed him two keys as well as a keycard for the main entrance and elevator of the building. "Good luck, and do keep in touch."

"I will. Thanks again, Reeve."

"My pleasure. Take care of yourself. You too, Cid," the commissioner spoke as he headed for the door.

"Always do," Cid responded.

Vincent waved to Reeve before the door closed shut behind him. He then let out a long breath and looked around the apartment. "Well... I guess I finally have a place to call home."

Cid made a sound of amusement as he slowly walked over to where Vincent was standing. "Ya sound like ya don't know how to feel about that."

"I don't, actually," Vincent admitted. He leaned against the kitchen counter, Cid mirroring his action a moment later. "It's weird. But it feels nice, regardless. Now it's just a matter of getting the necessities and the like."

"Yup. Get all that ya need, then you can start on personal touches and all that, like paintin' and stuff."

"My thought exactly. Though I don't think I will worry about painting. I think I like the colour scheme in here."

"Really?" Cid asked, surprised. "And here I thought you'd want reds and stuff like that."

"Hmph. I guess such a thing would be expected of me," he conceded. "But no, I think I like it this way. It's different from what I am used to, but... it's nice. I can't imagine it being any other way."

"Kinda like it was made just for ya, hu?" Cid asked.

"I guess that's one way of putting it," Vincent agreed.

"Maybe that's a sign o' things ta come. Good things." Cid smiled. "So - ready ta go do some shoppin'?"

"I suppose I kind of have to now, whether I want to or not," Vincent replied. He looked to Cid, a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips. "Are you sure you don't mind chauffeuring me around the city?"

"Not at all, Vince. Wouldn't have it any other way." He motioned to the door with a jerk of his head. "Lead the way. We got a lot ta get done now."

"Don't I know it," Vincent said as he made way for the apartment door, already making an extensive list within his mind of things that he would need to get.

Their return to the commercial district proved to be no different than the last few visits he and Cid had made to it. Much like the previous day, Vincent was met with the gratitude of many he came across while shopping for the items that he needed. Thankfully this time, no gifts were offered in response, allowing for each interaction to end on a less awkward note. After a couple hours of gathering necessities, they returned to the apartment building with numerous bags in tow.

"Why does it feel as though I have bought more than what I actually need?" Vincent asked as he looked at all the bags they carried.

"Because ya ain't used ta havin' a place o' yer own ta stock?"

"I know that's very well the reason why and yet it's not enough to make me feel as though I didn't go overboard on the shopping." Having lived out of motels and other places of the sort for the past few years, things like towels, sheets, dinnerware, and other items were not things on his to-buy list as they were already available wherever he stayed. Now that he was faced with the task of gathering all necessary things, it seemed overwhelming. "The sad thing is, I know this is just the start of it. This is just the bare minimum."

"That's what I was tryin' ta tell ya back there," Cid said. "Maybe start droppin' hints ta all yer admirers. Maybe they'll toss ya some freebies."

Vincent shot a flat look to Cid. "That's not funny."

"Well then, ya need a better sense o' humour," he teased. "Feel like a celebrity yet?" Cid asked, grinning.

"If that's how a celebrity feels, then it makes sense as to why they do not like to appear in public very often," Vincent commented. 

Cid laughed at the response. "What? Don't like bein' praised or put on a pedestal?"

Vincent grunted. "Not exactly. It's not _bad_ per se. It just feels..."

"Odd?"

"To say the least, yes," Vincent replied. "I'm not used to so many people clamouring to speak to me or offer me a gift. I don't wish to seem ungrateful, but I also don't want to be someone who isn't bothered by it either. I don't want to be that kind of person that is just so willing to take things when I'm not entirely deserving of it."

"Makes sense."

Vincent nodded. "It is nice, in a way. Being appreciated, that is. Though I could do without the staring."

"Who was starin'?"

Vincent stepped out of the elevator the moment the metal doors opened enough for him to do so. "No one in particular, really. It was just something I noticed some doing," he added as an afterthought.

"Maybe they were just starstruck by yer good looks," Cid said, bumping his hip against Vincent's.

The gunman snorted and couldn't help but smirk slightly, albeit bashfully. "Hardly," he replied. Vincent shook his head and let the subject come to an end as he looked onward down the hallway. As they drew closer to his apartment, Vincent's eyes narrowed into slits as he looked to the space in front of his apartment door. Placed in front of it was a small bundle of vibrant yellow lilies tucked into a translucent, cyan glass vase, the stems tied neatly together with a thin ribbon. Vincent knelt down as he approached the door and hesitantly picked up the bouquet.

Cid came to Vincent's side and leaned against the frame of the doorway. He eyed the flowers and asked, "Got a secret admirer?"

"Not that I'm aware of," Vincent spoke as he inspected the flowers with unease. No note was present on either the floor or on the bouquet, which only left him with more questions as to who may have left it behind. A memory resurfaced in his mind, and he asked, "Cid, who was it that brought the flowers to me in the hospital?"

Cid shrugged. "Don't ask me. Maybe Tifa brought 'em."

"You think so?"

"Well not for _sure,_ but who else would'a brought 'em? Unless the hospital staff brought 'em in." Cid pushed off the doorframe with a shove of his arm and turned to unlock the door. "Why? What does it matter anyway?"

"I was just reminded of them since these are the same."

"So?"

"Seems like a bit of a coincidence that the same flowers were also in my room at the hospital."

"Maybe it is just that - a coincidence. Or, maybe it _is_ an admirer, yanno?" Cid joked in an attempt to lighten Vincent's mood.

"And they're following me to my new home already?" 

Cid grimaced in response but quickly followed the statement with, "I'll make sure no one messes with ya." He carried the bags into the apartment and to the kitchen area, setting them on the counter. "How 'bout I stay with ya fer a while? Just in case."

"I'm sure I could handle myself," Vincent countered, still standing in the entranceway, his attention still affixed to the flowers he held. "But... perhaps some company would be nice too." He looked down the hallway in both directions, red eyes seeking out the sight of security cameras anywhere that may have captured who had left the gift. Unless they were hidden, Vincent could not spot anything that resembled anything of the sort. The only thing he made a note of down the vacant hallway was the exit sign by the fire escape that was flickering as if the bulb was about to burn out. 

Sighing, Vincent slowly stepped into the apartment and closed the door behind him with the heel of his boot. He furthered into the room and set the bags on the table, all the while still looking at the flowers, his brows remaining knit with concern at the intent behind the gift. 

Cid took note of this as he started to unload the bags and said, "If they bother ya that much, throw 'em out."

Vincent was inclined to agree with Cid as the sight of them was troubling him more than what he would have liked to admit, and yet at the same time, he felt his gut twist at the notion. Vincent slowed to a standstill in front of the garbage can. He drew a finger down the soft, sun-coloured petal, collecting a thin layer of pollen on his fingertip. "I can't," he spoke softly at the realization he couldn't bring himself to do so.

Cid looked up at the change of tone. "Why's that?"

Vincent looked to Cid, a faint, bittersweet smile pulling at the corner of his lips. "Because doing such a thing would have made Aerith sad." Vincent never truly had an affinity for flowers, and yet he couldn't bring himself to discard something that their beloved friend from the slums cherished so much. With the image of her face in mind, he carried the flowers to the living room.

Cid's smile mirrored Vincent's. "Yeah. Ya got me there." As Vincent went to find a place to set the flowers, Cid continued with the task of unloading the bags of their contents. "It'll liven the place up a bit ta have 'em around."

"Mmm, it will." Vincent set the vase on the center of the coffee table in the living room, deciding that was the best place for them at the current moment. Vincent lifted a hand and rubbed his neck where an ache spreading upwards along his skull was making itself known. The question of who left the flowers behind still lingered in his mind, but it was a mystery that would have to be solved at a later time. 

"You okay?" Cid asked.

"I'm fine," Vincent answered and turned to walk to the kitchen and help put the rest of the food items away. "It's just a small headache. Nothing to worry about."

"I'll take yer word for it."

It wasn't long before everything was sorted and put away into their proper places. Once the task was complete, Vincent made his way to the couch to sit down. He lifted a hand to the back of his neck and massaged the area the pain was stemming from. Normally he wasn't too concerned when dealing with such sensations, but this was the first of any he was experiencing since leaving the hospital, and it was rare for headaches to come to him out of the blue.

"You sure yer okay?" Cid asked from behind.

"It's just a headache."

"Must be one hell of a headache. Yer as white as a ghost, and fer you that's sayin' somethin'."

Vincent's eyes narrowed in an unamused fashion. "Very funny."

"Nah, seriously." Cid stepped around to sit on the coffee table in front of the other. "Are ya feelin' okay? Need me ta get ya anythin'?"

Vincent shook his head. "No, I'm fine. I'll just sit for a moment and see if it goes away."

The look on Cid's face didn't convey confidence in Vincent's answer, but he chose not to dig any deeper into the matter. He simply hummed and set his hands on his hips. "Maybe it's the flowers?"

"The flowers?"

"Yeah. Maybe ya got an allergy to 'em or somethin'," Cid ventured a guess as he walked to where Vincent had set them.

Though the notion was entirely plausible, Vincent was unsure it was the case. Vincent looked to his finger, more specifically the faint orange patch of pollen residue remaining on the pad of his fingertip. "It's possible, but I've never had an issue around them before. I don't see why I would now."

"Things change, yanno? Some people gain allergies ta things they've been around their whole lives. Happens more than a person realizes. And considerin' what ya went through, wouldn't be much of a surprise that it kicked somethin' like an allergy in ta gear." Cid picked up the vase with the flowers and said, "I'll set 'em out on the balcony. We'll see if that makes a difference."

"I suppose it wouldn't hurt," Vincent agreed. He rubbed the base of his neck once again before letting his head rest back against the couch. He stared at the ceiling and said aloud, "I'd still like to know who left them here."

Cid stepped back in from the balcony and shut the door behind him. "Who knows," he said and walked toward the couch. "Ya know, the buildin' staff probably left 'em. As a welcomin' gift o' sorts?" he suggested. "After all, they'd know which room you were in. And they've already got access to the places in the building."

Vincent hummed as he mulled over the suggestion. "That does make sense, doesn't it?"

"I think it does," Cid said and stepped around the couch to sit on the coffee table in front of the other. "Does that put yer mind at ease?"

"It does actually," Vincent admitted, feeling less anxious now that the mystery had possibly been solved. He lifted his head and looked to Cid and offered him a smile. "Clever. I'm surprised I didn't think of that."

Cid shrugged. "Blame it on yer recovery."

"I think I've recovered rather well, and I'm sure I've gotten enough rest, but that will have to do," Vincent said, smiling. "Thank you, Cid."

Cid waved his hand once more. "Ah hell, ain't no big deal. It just came ta mind just now, that's all. Either way, glad ya ain't stressin' about it now." 

Vincent hummed softly in agreement. "There is that." Now with his mind at ease at the plausibly solved mystery, Vincent returned his focus to the apartment with renewed strength. "I suppose I should get to doing a few other things around here, like putting the sheets on the bed and getting that ready." As the words left him, another thought occurred to Vincent regarding a comment from earlier. If Cid planned on staying with him for a few days, sleeping arrangements had to be made. Momentarily the idea of suggesting sharing the bed came to mind, but in doing so, it prodded his imagination into producing scenarios that he did not dare allow himself to consider. For quite some time, his feelings of admiration and friendship with Cid had grown into something more to Vincent, but it was a feeling he brushed away as if it were dust on a surface. Past experiences had provided enough proof to him that relationships superseding friendship did not end well, and with this came a fear of allowing himself to become hopeful for such things. With this in mind, he decided to avoid the suggestion all together and said, "You can have the bed while you stay here. I'll take the couch."

"I ain't gonna make ya sleep on no damned couch in yer own home," Cid responded with a frown.

Vincent shrugged dismissively. "I wouldn't be bothered. I've slept on worse."

"That ain't the point," Cid said, kicking the other's leg. "It's yer place, so yer sleepin' in yer own bed." Cid's silence after the declaration was brief before his famous smirk appeared and followed up with, "Unless yer sayin' that because ya don't think you can handle me in bed."

Unfortunately, this time for Vincent, he was unable to control his reaction as effortlessly as before. It only took a matter of a second for his face to turn as red as the cloak he once donned. "I change my mind. Maybe _you_ should be the one to sleep on the couch," he said.

Cid sniggered to himself as he watched Vincent. "Damn. Yer cheeks are almost the same colour as yer eyes. Who would've thought sayin' such a thing would've gotten ya that flustered."

Vincent reached out to his side to grab hold of one of the throw pillows and slapped the other in the face. "You're despicable."

Cid laughed, seemingly unphased by the blow dealt. "You love it."

Vincent huffed as he crossed his arms. "I admit to no such thing."

"Bet I could make ya," Cid taunted as he tossed the pillow back onto the couch.

"Doubtful." This was a lie, and Vincent knew this, but he was not about to admit to this aloud either. At least not now.

"Challenge accepted." Cid pat Vincent's knee and asked, "Are ya feelin' up ta havin' a drink? I got some wine ta celebrate ya havin' yer first home."

"When did you pick that up?" Vincent asked, quickly forgetting the previous topic.

"When ya weren't lookin'." 

"Obviously."

"Hey, can't give away all my secrets." Cid winked and rose from his seat to head over to the bar. "Want some?"

"I suppose so. It would be a shame to let it go to waste." Soon enough, Cid returned with two of the newly bought glasses with a portion of the wine in each of them. Vincent took the glass handed to him. Though they worked for the current moment, Vincent made a mental note to buy proper wine glasses at a later time. He swirled the drink gently, allowing it to aerate and warm against his touch through the glass. "Smells nice."

"Hopefully it tastes just as good," Cid sat down beside Vincent and held his glass up between them. "To new beginnings?"

Vincent hummed gently and clinked the edge of his glass with Cid's. "To new beginnings."


	6. Chapter 6

The end to the evening had been a pleasant and relaxed one. It was spent making small talk, eating some food, and sitting back and watching some tv with a few drinks. Vincent couldn't remember the last time he merely relaxed for an evening like this. Prior to the previous battle fought, Vincent's version of relaxing often meant acquiring something that would suffice for a meal, finding a place to stay for the night, and plan out the following day's schedule. This was a good change, he felt, and vowed to make this the new norm in his life, or at least make a decent attempt at making it so.

Once it was time to turn in, with it came the subtle worry of knowing he and Cid would be sharing a bed. Sharing a room with Cid was nothing new to Vincent as the two had done so upon countless occasions, but sharing a bed was completely new territory, territory he hoped didn't draw tension between them. Vincent had heard stories of men who often felt the need to defend their masculinity when in such a scenario as if sleeping in a bed with someone of the same sex diminished this in some way. He was doubtful that Cid would react in such a way, but Vincent couldn't help but worry. Thankfully, Cid seemed unbothered by the idea and unceremoniously flopped on one side of the bed and made himself comfortable as if it had always been his spot on the bed. This put Vincent at ease, grateful that his worries had been unfounded after all. He crawled under the blankets on his own side of the bed and bid the other goodnight before drifting off into a deep sleep.

When morning came, it came with a start thanks to Vincent's cell phone ringing and vibrating across the nightstand beside him. Vincent's body jolted as if struck with lightning, and he once again found himself struggling to move his limbs, much like the day Cid had awoken him in the motel. He growled to himself and finally maneuvered his half-numb arm over enough to reach for his phone. Vincent fumbled as he picked it up and looked at the small screen. Even though it had happened every day since his discharge from the hospital, it still shocked him none the less to see that he had slept through the entirety of the night and late into the morning without so much as a single disturbance. Sighing, he delayed no longer and answered the call and raised the phone to his ear. "Hello."

"Good morning, Vincent. Did I disturb you? You don't sound well."

"No, not at all, Reeve," Vincent answered as he rolled onto his back and stretched. "I just woke up, that's all. How can I help you?"

"I am in no need of help, but rather I thought I would call to check in on you and inform you of some good news," the man answered. "But before I get to that, how was your first night?"

"Quite well, thank you," Vincent answered, only just managing to refrain from yawning until he finished his sentence. "I have no complaints."

"Good," Reeve spoke happily. "I am glad to hear that. I had been hoping that would be the case. Now, I won't keep you long, but I just wanted to call to inform you I worked out the issue of money we spoke about the other day. Tseng opened your file and updated the information, listing you as a retired employee with full benefits. It will still take a few days to finalize setting up an account for you to access, but it is in the works. You should be receiving an information packet and account card via mail delivery in the next day or two with everything."

It took a moment for Vincent to absorb the information conveyed to him, not only surprised that Reeve had been able to achieve doing what he had set out to do but also by how quickly he managed to do it. "I don't know what to say, Reeve. I still can't believe he went along with such an idea. Was Tseng truly fine going along with this?"

"Of course. There are numerous reasons as to why, but seeing as how you were once a Turk yourself is most likely one of the main reasons why he agreed to do it. You may not be a part of the Turks any longer, but your name still holds weight in that department none the less."

Vincent huffed gently at the notion. "I suppose. I just never pictured him as the type to follow through on such a gesture or favour like this."

"Why not?" Reeve questioned. "Admittedly, he is not the most openly friendly person and can appear rather rough around the edges, he is not heartless."

"I think that is putting it nicely," Vincent countered. 

"One could also say the same about our beloved Chief if we were not acquainted with him."

"Fair point." Vincent looked to the side of the bed where he last remembered Cid being before he fell asleep. He wondered where the blonde had wandered off to, but he would find that out soon enough. "You're right. I shouldn't judge him based on how little I know him. That would be unfair of me," Vincent admitted, reflecting upon the occasions where judgment had been cast upon him in the same manner. "Can you pass along my thanks to him?"

"Certainly. Consider it done," Reeve answered. "But I should be letting you go now as I have work to return to. In the meantime, keep watch for your packet. If you don't have it by the weekend, please give me a call and I will sort it out as quickly as I can."

"Alright. Thank you once again, Reeve. I wish I could do more than just say that."

A soft laugh came from the other end of the line. "There is no need for anything more. I am glad to help. Have a good day, Vincent. Keep in touch."

"I will. Take care." Vincent waited for the line to disconnect on the other end before closing his phone and setting it to the side. He let out a long breath as he processed the information in his mind. Now that the issue of money was soon to be resolved, he struck it from the list in his mind of things that had to be tended to.

"Who phoned?"

Vincent's eyes were drawn to the door that Cid was casually leaning against, shirtless and sipping on a cup of tea. This took Vincent by surprise but admittedly wasn't bothered by this either. Truthfully he did admire the other's physique and the strength the man's body held, both for practical and non-practical reasons of which he would never admit aloud for as long as he lived.

"Vince?"

Cid's voice did nothing to snap Vincent out of the trance he was in, but he acknowledged his name with a questioning hum.

Cid grinned in a devious manner. "Enjoyin' the view?"

"What?" It was then that Vincent registered just how long he had been gawking at the man for, and he shook his head to physically snap himself out of his daze. "No, not at all." He blinked. "Not that I mean you're bad to look at. I just meant-" Vincent paused and cleared his throat as he tried to regain the composure he had lost in that moment. Deciding it was best not to say more as it would only dig a deeper hole for himself, he instead asked, "What was it you asked?"

Cid smirked as he swirled the tea in his cup. "I asked if you were enjoyin' the view."

"Before that..."

A soft laugh left the pilot before he surrendered being comedic for the other's sake. "I asked who phoned."

Vincent crossed his arms. "Reeve," he answered, doing his best not to allow his face to turn a darker shade of red than it already was. "He called to let me know that I will be getting some things in the mail and that I will be receiving pay after all."

"Ah, good. Now at least ya don't have to go around feelin' guilty about me payin' fer yer stuff."

"There is that," Vincent said. "Now, might I ask where your shirt is? Did it magically disappear during the night, or is that how you normally wander around in the mornings?"

"Nah, I spilled tea all over myself when I was out on the balcony, havin' a smoke. Cigarette kinda got away on me, and I started fumblin'. Next thing ya know, I'm wearin' my drink."

"Ah, I see. That's a shame," Vincent replied while unwittingly looking the other over once more.

"Is what it is. Want me to put it back on?"

"Well, if it's wet, there's no point until it's dry," Vincent answered.

"It's probably dry by now."

"Mmm." Vincent almost hated himself for feeling disappointed. "If it's dry, then you may as well."

"Try not to look so sad," Cid said, smirking once again.

Vincent blinked and puffed his chest out slightly. "I'm not sad."

"Better tell that to yer face then. Don't think it got the memo," Cid spoke before backing out of the room, whistling to himself as he walked to the kitchen.

Vincent opened his mouth to retort but soon found himself giving up on the idea. He smacked his cheek as if it would help his focus get back on track, then proceeded to crawl out of bed and into some new clothes. Once he had a new attire on and he had tamed his unruly hair with a brush, Vincent made his way to the kitchen where a fully-clothed Cid awaited by the kitchen counter, a cup of tea sitting out and waiting for him.

"So, what's the plan for the day?" Cid asked.

"I'm not too sure," Vincent said, rubbing the back of his neck. "There's not too much to do right now until I have money coming in. Otherwise, I would start buying a few more things for this place that I'm going to need."

"We still could, if ya want. I could buy what ya need, and you can just pay me back later."

Vincent hummed in thought as he mulled over the suggestion. "I suppose," he mumbled.

"Get that look off yer face," Cid spoke as if reading the man's mind. "Ya know ya don't have ta feel guilty about borrowin' from me. I got the cash, and you can pay me back whenever ya get yer money comin' in."

"Alright," Vincent conceded, unable to bring himself to argue with the other so early in the morning. Reeve did say it would not be too long before the money came in so he would at least be able to pay the other back in short time. "I guess we go out shopping then. After we finish our tea, of course."

"Can do," Cid replied with a firm nod.

Within a short time, the duo made their way out on the town. After stopping for a quick breakfast, they revisited some of the stores in the days prior, picking up a few more necessities for the apartment. After a few hours had passed, another large haul of items was loaded into the back of Cid's truck, ready to be taken home. However, upon their return home, Cid made the decision to stop at a cafe that he often frequented to get some drinks. Vincent waited outside by the truck while Cid ran inside to get the drinks, trusting Cid's judgment to pick out something that he would like. It wasn't as though the vehicle needed guarding, but he didn't feel the need to go inside either. Instead, he waited beside the truck and looked off in the distance.

"Flower, sir?" spoke a small voice to his side. 

Turning, Vincent's attention was drawn to the short, young boy standing at his side. He was no higher than his hip and was pulling along a covered cart behind him. "You're selling flowers?" Vincent asked.

"Yes, sir. Picked fresh every day!" the boy exclaimed. He then fell silent and tipped his head as he looked at Vincent more inquisitively. "Hey, aren't you that guy that helped save the world from Omega?"

The awkward nervousness made itself known to Vincent in the form of a weighted sensation within his gut, even though he had begun to grow used to the question being asked. "Yes, that was me."

The boy's green eyes lit up. "I knew it! You're a hero, mister!" he spoke excitedly. He then turned and lifted the lid on the cart and picked out a flower. "Here - go ahead and take this as a thank you."

Vincent looked at the flower held out to him, his eyes taking in the details of the perfectly curled petals of the yellow lily held out to him. Vincent tentatively reached out and took hold of the flower by the stem and knelt down beside the boy. "Thank you. Do you sell these quite often?"

"Yup," the boy said, nodding. "They're pretty popular. My brother and I sell them all over town."

"I see. Do you and your brother happen to take these to hospitals or apartment buildings?" Vincent inquired.

"Mhmm. Especially hospitals. Mom says people can get lonely there, so the flowers can help cheer them up."

"Sound advice. Your mother is a smart woman," Vincent said. "That is nice of you to do that." He motioned to the cart with a nod of his head. "Out of curiosity, can I ask where you got these flowers from?"

The boy giggled. "I can't tell you that, sir. That's a secret."

Vincent frowned. "Why is it a secret?"

The boy's green eyes twinkled. "If I told people where I find them, people would just go pick them, and then I wouldn't have any more to sell." He grinned cheekily and then bounded past him and down the sidewalk. "Have a good day!"

Vincent watched the boy run off toward another crowd of people in hopes of achieving a sale. He bit the inside of his lip and looked back to the flower he had been awarded. He wondered if perhaps Aerith's church was the source of the flower supply to the boy. Vincent imagined some would be bothered by this, but the gunman couldn't help but think Aerith would be proud her flowers were still making their way through the city and brightening people's days. Vincent rose to his feet and sniffed the fragrant flower. The scent was strong, stronger than what he anticipated, but the boy did say they were picked fresh that day. He could feel his sinuses burn in reaction, causing his head to ache as well in the process. 'Perhaps I should stay away from these afterall,' he thought to himself.

"So, you're a hero, are you?"

Vincent turned his head once again to the source of the new voice. Standing feet away from him was a man roughly the same height as himself, midlength hair as black as his own and slicked back behind his ears. He donned a black trenchcoat overtop of an equally dark attire, the only flare of colour being that of a red tie. If it weren't for the lack of a lapel pin or armband or the fact that he was carrying a large book under his arm rather than that of an attache case, Vincent would have thought him to be one of the Turks. Then again, for as little as he knew of the department now, he could very well have been a Turk after all. "So I am often told," Vincent replied.

"Why are you here?"

"I'm waiting for someone, if that's what you mean," Vincent replied in a tone that conveyed puzzlement at the random question.

The man stared in silence for an unnerving amount of time before finally replying with, "This isn't a place you want to be."

Vincent wasn't sure which was more concerning, how long the silver-eyed man had remained silent before speaking or the way he had stared at him while doing so. "Then I suppose it's a good thing that I won't be here for much longer."

"I should hope that is the case," the man replied. "This place is dangerous."

"If you say so." The only thing that led him to believe something was not quite right was that of the knot developing in his belly, but Vincent felt this was to blame on the stranger more than that of anything alarming in the immediate area. Vincent didn't feel as though there was danger lurking by, but he chose not to tempt fate and find out for himself. If the man was indeed a Turk and working on a mission, Vincent didn't plan on being in the middle of anything that could possibly be happening in the immediate area. Healed or not, he was not quite ready to take on the task of fighting off threats anytime soon. With that in mind, he said, "Have a good day," to the man and turned away to get Cid. No sooner had the thought come to mind, Cid stepped out of the coffee shop with a drink in each hand. Vincent smiled as he approached him. "Find what you wanted?"

"Eventually. Long line-up in there." Cid leaned to the side to glance past Vincent for a moment before he asked, "Did I catch ya in the middle o' somethin'?"

Deciding it was unimportant and best not to let the other worry about such trivial matters, Vincent shook his head. "No, it's nothing," he said. "Just some stranger asking for directions." 

"Was he tradin' flowers fer information?" Cid asked with a nod to the lily.

Vincent was momentarily confused by Cid's question but quickly caught on once he looked to the flowers that he had nearly forgotten he had been holding. "Oh, no, nothing like that. A child selling flowers came by and gave it to me." He took the cup as it was held out to him and offered him a smile along with his thanks. "Where would you like to go next?"

"Wherever ya feel like goin'? I ain't got any place particular in mind." Cid reached out and took hold of Vincent's arm and proceeded to lead him further away from the stranger. "Unless ya wanna do some shoppin' fer the apartment, eat, or find a place ta have a drink, there ain't much more ta do. That's the downside ta this city - ain't too many scenic places to hang out."

"True." Vincent felt the tingling on the back of his neck and looked over his shoulder again to see the stranger still standing where he had left him, motionless like a statue. The tingling sensation intensified at the sight, but he ignored it and turned his attention forward. "We could wander through one of the markets if you want? We don't necessarily need to buy anything, but we could look around."

"As long as ya slap my hand if I try to buy stupid shit," Cid agreed. Not a moment after the words left Cid's mouth, Cid tapped Vincent's wrist and said, "Stop scratchin'.

Vincent blinked and looked down at his hands to confirm for himself that he was doing precisely what Cid had chastised him for doing. "Sorry. I didn't realize I was doing that."

"That's been happenin' a lot lately," Cid said. "That rash is sure hellbent on stickin' around, ain't it? Maybe we can find ya some medicine since we're out." With a nod of his head, Cid pointed out the pharmacy just down the street. "It ain't that far outta our way anyhow."

"That's true," Vincent agreed, eyeing the building in the distance that Cid had pointed out. Though he considered a rash a minor thing in comparison to other ailments a body could suffer from, he admittedly was both surprised and annoyed that it had not seemed to fade any since departing the hospital. Vincent was unsure if this was due to Chaos and the others being seemingly dormant, and this was slowing down his healing abilities, but it ultimately made no difference. Maybe getting something to help with the healing process was for the best. "It wouldn't hurt, I suppose. Nothing ventured, nothing gained, right?"

"That's the spirit," Cid said, emphasizing the statement by clapping Vincent on the back. "Let's go see what we can find."

"Yes, Chief." He cast a quick glance over his shoulder to see that the stranger from earlier was no longer present. Vincent was unsure whether he was pleased or concerned by this. Shaking his head of the thought, he walked onward with Cid down the street, setting the flower gifted to him in a glass of water left on a table outside the cafe. 

"Why do ya still call me 'Chief' anyway?" Cid asked. 

Vincent swallowed the mouthful of tea he had taken from his cup. Pondering for a moment, he shrugged when he realized he had no decent answer for Cid. "For the same reason that you call me 'Vince,' I suppose."

"Oh." The singular sound was laced with concern. "Does that bug ya that I call ya that?"

"Not especially, no," Vincent replied. "Admittedly, I have never cared for the shortened variations of my name, but I never found myself truly bothered when you did it." 

"Oh," Cid replied, the relief evident in his voice and posture. "Well, that's good. I'll take that as a compliment," he added, smirking.

Vincent smiled in response. He was thankful that Cid didn't read between the lines of the statement to solve the more significant meaning behind it. "Good. Does it bother you that I call you Chief still?"

"Ah, hell no, not at all. Just curious, I guess. Yer the only one who calls me by that, so I just wondered why."

"Mmm. I see. I guess I never thought much of it." Vincent stepped to the side with the other to avoid a group of people stepping out from a diner. "If you would prefer, I could stop using the nickname?"

"Nah, I told ya that ya don't have ta go doin' that. Besides, kinda like it." Cid nudged the other with his elbow in a friendly manner, coupled with his trademark smirk. He motioned to the pharmacy sign just above them as they approached and turned into the store. "Now, let's see what we can find ta cure yer itch."

It only took a matter of a few minutes before they found something that they hoped could help with Vincent's peculiar ailment, with some help from the pharmacy staff. As they took their spot in line to pay, Cid withdrew his wallet and started counting out some gil, and Vincent scanned over the items on display. Among the chocolates, candies, and other goodies meant to spur on a last-minute craving, sat a small rack of displayed magazines and newspapers with the latest eye-catching news. None stood out to him with the exception of one in particular that displayed a distant shot taken of Omega. He fixated on the image as if it was the only thing that existed in the same space as himself.

He didn't understand why, but looking at the image caused his heart to lurch in his chest. It had been a long time since he had last suffered from panic attacks and yet he recognized the first rumblings of one starting to set in. The edges of his vision began to blur and darken, leaving him with tunnelled vision as he looked upon the image. His heart began to race. His chest started to ache. The sounds around him dulled to nothing as his memories supplied to him a cacophony of sounds he could recall from that day. The rushing sound of the wind, the buzz of energy in the air, and the screaming of his demons-

"Sir, are you alright?"

"Vince, what's wrong?"

Vincent couldn't bring himself to answer either the cashier or Cid, his words held prisoner. Instead, he found himself turning and seeking out the first exit that he could find. The noises in his head continued as he shoved the exit door open and stepped out into the street. The screams in his head grew louder along with distant sounding voices saying things that he couldn't understand much less recall. He looked around at the people staring at him from all directions, and once again, he found himself fleeing to a safe place. Clumsily yet with haste, he made his way down the sidewalk and abruptly turned down an alley. He walked until he felt he couldn't anymore and leaned back against the wall before his legs caved beneath him. Shaky hands gripped his equally shaky knees. Vincent knew it was a trick of his mind, but he swore he could see the scars on his hand starting to reappear. He could feel the entirety of his body becoming numb as he grew shorter of breath, the hyperventilating growing stronger. Panic set in even more as the edges of his vision continued to darken until not more than a pinprick was remaining.

"Cid," he croaked.

As if summoned, Cid was suddenly before him and holding him up by his shoulders to keep him from falling. "Vince, stay with me. Don't go clockin' out on me now, ya hear?"

"I'm scared," Vincent wheezed.

"I can tell," Cid answered. "Just focus on breathin'."

"I'm trying." Vincent only wished it was so easy to shut off the valve to the panic in his system.

"Yer gonna have ta try harder then." After a second of pause, Cid added, "What am I wearin'?"

"What?"

"My clothes. Look at what I'm wearin'."

Vincent was momentarily confused but did his best to inspect what Cid had told him to. It was only while he was trying to carry out Cid's request that he was reminded of such a technique used to interrupt the throes of panic, by simply directing one's full attention to something in one's immediate surroundings. Nodding, Vincent began to list off the items that made up Cid's attire right down to the last detail. Though the progression was slow, the technique none the less helped Vincent focus on something else other than the events that had triggered his panic. As the oxygen began to replenish his system, the numbness started to subside, and the colour returned to his vision. He worked to rebuild some saliva within his dry mouth and swallow to soothe the burn that remained in his throat. Once he did that, he started to straighten his posture, with Cid helping, of course.

"There ya go, that's it," Cid spoke gently. Cid tipped his head, watching Vincent closely. "Feelin' okay?"

"Yeah. I think..." Vincent worked to control his breathing, and when he finally felt he had succeeded in doing so, he took a breath to steel himself and nodded. "I think I'm okay."

"Yer sure?"

"I think so," he answered, uncertain. His body still felt weak, but he was thankful he felt strength returning to him rather than leaving. "I'm sorry. I don't know what got into me. I just saw that picture of Omega and... I started to think back to everything that happened up until that last moment and I-" 

"Ya don't gotta explain," Cid spoke soothingly, combing his fingers through Vincen't sweat-dampened hair to push it back from his face. "Shit like that can happen at the weirdest o' moments. I saw it happen a lot with soldiers after a battle. A person don't always know when it's gonna happen or what's gonna set it off."

Vincent knew this to be true and yet he had a hard time convincing himself that this wasn't something to be ashamed of, especially when he had believed he had better control of his emotional state. He looked into Cid's eyes, and at that moment, found himself even more grateful for Cid's presence and his continued support that was always readily available. "Thank you, Cid. I'm sorry you had to see that."

"It ain't no big deal, Vince. Ya don't gotta apologize for bein' human. It happens."

To Vincent, the answer was expected, but what followed was not. Before he knew it, the distance between them was no more, and Cid's lips were on his own. At that moment, it was as if all around them came to a halt, like a movie being paused. His heartbeat continued its erratic pace, but that was no longer due to panic. 'This is a dream,' he thought, coming to the conclusion that he had passed out, and his imagination was filling in the void until he regained consciousness. Or so he told himself. Vincent was unsure how much time had passed, but he couldn't help but feel it wasn't long enough when Cid pulled back. Why did you-"

"Because I love ya."

Vincent's jaw went slack, and he once again found himself struggling to concoct words within his mind. Seeing this was the case, Cid spoke as if to try and answer the questions he had not yet figured out to ask. "I've been wantin' ta tell ya fer a while now. I told myself ta tell ya once ya woke up in the hospital, but then I chickened out when it finally happened. But I made a promise to myself ta tell ya once you were back on yer feet and settled again." After saying this, Cid snorted and took a look at their surroundings that was the dingy alleyway. "That bein' said, this still ain't exactly where I wanted to do this."

Vincent hummed weakly. "To be fair, I hadn't planned on suffering from a panic attack either. Life has a way of messing up plans. I've had a lifetime of lessons in that area." He let out a breath, still overwhelmed at all that had happened in just a handful of minutes. He looked at his hands that retained their tight hold of Cid's jacket. While doing so, he allowed himself the time he needed for his mind to settle. He was thankful Cid offered him the same courtesy. This had been one of the many things Vincent admired about Cid. As if gifted with flawless foresight, Cid always seemed to know when it was the right time to push, prod, or provide silent companionship, much like the current moment. Cid's humour, his way with words that had always managed to pull him away from the dark places his thoughts had lead him to, his loyal companionship, all these and more were things that had made Vincent slowly and silently fall for the other over the time that he had known him. Yet pursuing a relationship with him had been something Vincent had pushed to the back of his mind. Never did he once think the feelings were mutual between the two of them. "I don't know what to say," he spoke without thinking. There was so much he wanted to say, but he couldn't collect his whirling thoughts enough to figure out which to say first.

Cid made a quiet noise as he shifted on his feet. "Well, there's one thing ya could say," he said, almost sheepishly, but he grinned nonetheless as if to ward off any awkwardness of the statement. "Not that I expect ya to, though."

Vincent's state of confusion prompted him to ask, "Say what?" but realized once the words left his mouth what Cid had meant. "Never mind," he said with a shake of his head as he drew a hand over his face to hide the embarrassment.

Cid chuckled to himself. "Ya know yer cute when yer all embarrassed and awkward like that." 

Vincent snorted and dropped his hand and returned it to rest upon Cid's shoulder, where it had been moments before. "Then I suppose I am going to be very adorable for the next while," he joked weakly before allowing himself the liberty of stealing another kiss.


	7. Chapter 7

For all the times it had happened in the past, Vincent never thought he would have lived to see the day where he was thankful to have had a panic attack. For as unpleasant it had been at the time, he was grateful for that singular event for the change it brought to his life after the fact. Welcome change, for that matter. So much had happened within the past week that looking back on it, it now seemed unreal to Vincent. Cid moved into the apartment, and soon the place was beginning to feel more like a home than a rental. Now that Vincent had money coming in, with his and Cid's combined income, their home soon had all the things any other functioning home had, and then some. Personal knickknacks now took their places upon shelves and other surfaces, some that held some sentimental value to them. Such as the blue agate geode that sat on the living room table as a centerpiece. It had been a purchase on their first official date as a couple. It had caught Vincent's attention in a store window when the two were returning to their apartment after a nice dinner out. Reminding him of space and the colour of Cid's eyes, Vincent couldn't help but stop and pick up the item, especially as it could commemorate the day as well. Unknown to him at that moment, this was the first of many. Since their first date, Cid had developed a romantic streak and made every day a date, regardless of whether they left the apartment or not. Vincent almost felt as though he was being spoiled, but the thought was nothing more than a fleeting one and instead revelled in every moment of it.

"So, what do ya wanna do today?"

Vincent shivered as the man's breath and stubble tickled his neck. "I'm not too sure just yet," he said. He shuffled his body back against Cid under the warm blankets. "I would say a repeat of what we've done for the last two days, but I imagine you might want to leave the bedroom today."

Cid chuckled and the reply and turned his head enough to press a kiss to Vincent's neck. "Hey, I wouldn't complain, but we do need to eat. Otherwise, I'm gonna be cuddlin' a skeleton soon."

"We wouldn't want that." Vincent yawned, the sound nearly reminiscent of a guard hound. "I think I need some coffee first."

"Bleh," came a disgusted noise from Cid. Vincent didn't have to look to know what the other's expression looked like. "That stuff'll taint yer tastebuds."

"No worse than what tainted my tastebuds last night."

Silence followed after he uttered the words, and it left Vincent momentarily wondered if he should have kept his commentary to himself. That's when Cid asked, "Did you just make a dirty joke?"

"Maybe?"

A chortle was heard before Cid replied. "Look at you, all grown up and nasty."

"I'm not nasty," Vincent said, smirking at the response.

"Give it time. It's only been a few days."

"Of course." Vincent allowed himself to simply enjoy the comforting embrace for a while longer before speaking again. "Why don't we go out for breakfast this morning? I don't think we have much here for selection as it is."

"Can do," Cid spoke as he yawned. "If ya want, we could shop for a few things again, so we're good fer a few more days."

"Fine by me. I think I'm done with venturing downtown for a while anyway." For as much as Vincent had wanted to change his old ways, he couldn't deny the fact that he enjoyed his private time and stay out of the public eye. Now with Cid having become a more significant part of his life, it only made him wish to stay in this small part of the universe even more and enjoy the one-on-one time with him. "But I suppose I can't keep you indoors all the time."

"I do need my fresh air from time to time," Cid said, smirking against Vincent's neck. "Well, shall we get up and at 'em?"

"In a bit. I'm still too cozy at the moment," Vincent said as he tucked the blankets up to his chin.

Cid grunted gently and coiled his arms around Vincent even more. "Alright, ya twisted my rubber arm. Let me know when yer ready."

Reluctant to do so, even after nearly an hour had passed, Vincent finally decided it was time to get out of bed. If it wasn't for daily needs such as eating or needing to use the washroom, Vincent would have been content to stay in bed the entire day. Never the less, the two got up and ready for the day and soon made their way out to get themselves a meal. They made their usual stop at their favoured diner just outside their apartment complex and ordered lunch since they slept past the breakfast hours. After they finished, they set out to gather the few groceries they would need.

"Feels like we're prepping for the apocalypse," Vincent said as he set the last bag of groceries into the truck.

Cid laughed at the comment. "Hell, Vince, it ain't _that_ much food."

"It is for me," Vincent said. "Remember, I'm still getting used to this new lifestyle. I never had to buy this much food at once before."

"I guess yer right." Once he was confident that the bags were secured where he set them, Cid shut the tailgate. "Alright. Let's get home and get this unpacked."

"Sounds good." Vincent opened the door to the vehicle and glanced down the street, his eyes fixating on one of the storefronts. He nibbled the inside of his bottom lip in contemplation then leaned down to look into the vehicle just as Cid was getting into the driver's seat. "Did you want anything to drink at home? Some more wine, or anything of the sort?"

Cid paused from sitting in the driver's seat. He looked down the street to the building that Vincent had spotted and offered a shrug in response. "Could, if ya want? I wouldn't mind."

"I didn't think so, but I thought I would check." He smiled and asked, "Care to come in and pick something out?"

"Nah." Cid shut the door of the truck and walked around to stand on the sidewalk beside the other. "I can wait out here and have a smoke while ya do that. I ain't too picky."

Vincent arched a brow. "Now that's a lie if I ever heard one," he spoke teasingly.

Cid rolled his eyes. "Alright, maybe a little. Hey, I can't help it if I like the good stuff." He withdrew his pack of cigarettes from his coat pocket and lit one up. "Besides, I trust ya already know what I'd like, right?"

"I'll try not to disappoint you." He chuckled and kissed Cid's cheek before he pulled away. "I'll be right back."

"Alright," Cid called back and leaned against the truck.

Vincent moved down the sidewalk to the liquor outlet just ahead. He already had an idea of what he wanted to get, so it only left him with the task of finding it. Upon approaching the building, he heard a small voice greet him. It was then that he noticed the young boy from the week prior, pulling along the same wagon loaded with yellow lilies. Vincent smiled and mirrored the wave the green-eyed boy gave him. "Sales going well today?"

"Yup!" the boy happily chirped.

"Good to hear," Vincent said before slipping into the store.

He first directed himself to the whiskey section of the store and proceeded to look for something Cid would enjoy. After taking some time to look through what was available, Vincent came across a bottle that he vaguely recalled Cid buying upon a few occasions. He picked it up and made his way around to the wine section and began the same process. As his eyes scanned over the different labels, trying to decide what he wanted, a particular one caught his eye. Vincent looked at the plum-coloured bottle and lifted a hand to pull it off the shelf and inspect it closer. He could not remember having had such a kind before, and yet it seemed so familiar to him. Vincent thought back to events and social occasions from his younger days when his thoughts led him to that of his father.

While his father never cared for alcohol, wine was the only exception. It was never drunk in excess either, from what he could recall, but rather it marked the ending of another day. His father would pour himself a single glass and finish it over the course of time it took him to go over his papers accumulated from the day's work. Sometimes he could recall him having two glasses, but that only happened on the particularly strenuous days. As Vincent continued to inspect the label of the bottle, he was almost convinced this was the same kind. Vincent smiled reminiscently as he looked at the bottle. A part of him wished he could open it and take in the scent of it just to be sure, but even if it wasn't, Vincent decided he would purchase it all the same. Even if it didn't turn out to be the same kind, a drink was a drink.

"A good year, if I do say so myself."

Vincent turned his head to the source of the voice at his side only to find himself facing the silver-eyed stranger he had encountered the week prior, and what felt like an uncomfortably small amount of space between them. The strength in his muscles waned in an instant, and the bottle he held suddenly felt heavy as though it were made of stone. Vincent carefully tucked it against his chest along with the whiskey he carried, holding them tightly in fear of dropping and breaking them. It would have aggravated him to no end if he had to pay a large amount of gil for something he would not be able to enjoy.

Though the man's appearance set him on edge, he managed to muster a small, albeit awkward smile. "Good to know." Feeling that was enough effort in terms of being civil, Vincent turned on his heel and quickly leaving the aisle and heading for the till to pay for his items. He could not have been more thankful for the fact that there was not a line up when he got there. Vincent made quick work of pulling out the money needed to pay for the items as the cashier placed them into a paper bag once they were rung through. Soon enough, Vincent had the bag and his remaining change in hand, and he was walking for the door. As he was opening the door to exit the premises, he cast a precautionary glance over his shoulder to see if the stranger was following him. The relief he felt at that moment only lasted until he stepped outside.

"Is something wrong?" the silver-eyed man asked, standing just outside the entrance to the store.

It took a moment for Vincent's heart to sink back into his chest from where it had lodged itself within his throat. A strange numbness overcame his muscles and Vincent briefly worried he would collapse due to the weakness he felt flooding his body. "Nothing is wrong," Vincent managed to answer.

The stranger shifted the book he carried with him in front of his chest. "Why did you run away?"

Vincent eyed the large book the man held, wondering if it concealed a weapon within it. It was an old method, one that had become a cliché in movies he remembered seeing as a child, but nevertheless was one that some in the Turks had used. Even he had stored weapons in a similar fashion when the situation called for it. "Because I have someone waiting for me. I'd rather not keep them waiting for me too much longer," Vincent replied as he took a step back.

Just as he was attempting to step around the man, Vincent stiffened as the stranger's gloved hand snapped out and took hold of his wrist. His skin started to burn as if the leather handwear had been coated with acid.

"What happened to your hand?" the man asked as he looked at Vincent's hand, seeming to be inspecting.

Vincent ground his teeth at the audacity of the stranger. "It's just a rash," he explained, his ire not disguised in his tone. Vincent wrenched his hand from the man's grip and rubbed his wrist gently, the itchy sensation growing tenfold. It momentarily made him speculate if the stranger's glove had been laced with something after all. "What does it matter?"

The stranger met his gaze, his expression still unchanging. "That wasn't what I was talking about."

Vincent glowered. "Then what _are_ you talking about? Who are you anyway?"

"You don't remember me?" the man asked stoically, his expression unchanging.

Vincent grimaced as the ringing that occasionally plagued his hearing returned, nearly making him wince in reaction. Though it concerned him as to why it was flaring up again, it offered an even better reason to part ways with the silver-eyed man. "Other than from the other day, no, I do not. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have to be on my way," Vincent spoke definitively. He turned on his heel and made quick work of putting distance between himself and the silver-eyed man. Crimson coloured eyes flicked back and forth as he searched earnestly for Cid. Vincent was unsure where the drove of people came from, but he was thankful for it nonetheless. He quickly slithered through the crowd like a snake on hot sand, putting distance between himself and the stranger. A quick glance over his shoulder provided him with the knowledge that he had lost the other and he intended to keep it that way. Vincent quickly walked down the street to find Cid still standing by the truck, butting out the cigarette he had lit before they parted ways.

"Hey," Cid spoke as Vincent approached. "Find what ya wanted?"

"I did." Vincent glanced over his shoulder once again. "And other things I didn't," he added under his breath.

"What was that?"

"Nothing," Vincent lied and motioned to the truck. "Let's head home, okay?"

"Alright. Vince, you feelin' okay? Ya got that look again."

"I'm fine. Really," Vincent said and opened the door to the truck. "Let's just head back before the food starts to go bad back there." Vincent wasted no time crawling into the cab of the truck, feeling more secure once inside. He kept his attention affixed to those walking along the sidewalk, keeping an eye out for the man, but he was thankful he didn't see him approaching. Vincent felt the vehicle shift as Cid crawled into the driver's seat and turned the truck on. It wouldn't be long before they would be back at home, and the thought offered more relief.

"You sure yer okay?" Cid asked.

"Yes, I'm fine." Vincent set the bag with the two bottles down by his feet and let out a sigh as he relaxed back into the seat once again. He looked to his wrist where it still itched and burned, and he couldn't help but scratch at the irritated skin. "Just had a run-in with someone who gave me the creeps. Nothing serious, but just enough to put me on edge. I'd just like to go home now."

"If ya say so," Cid replied. His tone conveyed skepticism, but he refrained from asking anything further at that moment. Seconds later, Cid pulled the vehicle onto the road and started on the path that would take them back to the apartment building. When they were almost halfway home, Cid quietly asked, "Feelin' okay? Ya still look a bit rattled. Wanna talk about what happened?"

"No," Vincent answered quickly. He let out a sigh as he watched the buildings as they passed by them. "It wasn't anything serious. I'm probably just overreacting," he said. It had been the most prominent thought on his mind since they started their return to the apartment. He shook his head at his own foolishness. "I guess I'm just having an off day."

"Alright, if that's what ya-Vince! What're ya doin?!"

Vincent stiffened in his seat at the sudden shift in Cid's voice and how quickly the truck slowed down and pulled into an empty spot on the side of the road. "What? What are you talking about?"

Cid's face was drained of colour, and blue eyes were filled with shock. He looked down and reached out to take hold of Vincent's wrist. "Ya mean ta tell me ya don't feel this?"

The confusion Vincent felt at Cid's question did not fade as he looked to his left hand. Smeared across this skin and his wrist were streaks of blood seeping from severe scratch marks. Looking to his other hand, Vincent took note of the blood on his fingertips and under his nails. "I don't... I didn't realize..."

"Does it hurt?" Cid asked and carefully looked over the numerous small seeping wounds.

"Now that I'm paying attention, it is," Vincent answered, still in awe of what happened.

Cid released a strained sigh and let go of Vincent's hand to dig under the seat. He sat up after a few moments after having retrieved a roll of paper towel. Cid took off the first few dusty layers and tossed them to the side, then proceeded to strip off another couple of clean sheets to place over the back of Vincent's hand. "Just hold that there. I'm gonna get ya to the hospital ta get that looked at."

Vincent swallowed and placed his hand over the towel and hold it in place. "It's not that serious to trouble them with such a thing. I can heal the bleeding with my materia at home."

"It ain't the bleedin' I'm worried about," Cid said. "It's that damn itch o' yers. You've been scratchin' at that since ya got outta the hospital. If it's that bad that yer gonna rip yer own veins open without noticin', then it's time it gets looked at."

Vincent opened his mouth to argue but found that he couldn't bring himself to do so. Cid was right. This wasn't normal. "Okay." He shrunk down in his seat and kept watching his hands as he held the pressure on the back of his hand, his attention fixated on the blood caked under his nails and fingertips. He felt the vehicle starting to move down the street, and as they began to move, he dropped his head back against the headrest and looked out the window. 'What's wrong with me?' he asked himself as he leaned his head against the window. The question lingered within his mind up until the moment they arrived at the hospital.

Once at the hospital, Cid made quick work of shuffling Vincent into the building and to the outpatient's wing where a doctor could look at him. Thankfully it was not long before a doctor arrived to look over Vincent's injury. It was the process after that took the most time. The doctor had taken swabs of the wounds as well as other samples to be sent to the lab and tested that would hopefully provide some answers to the mystery affliction.

"It will be a couple of days before we get the results from all of the tests," the doctor informed Vincent as he finished healing the small wounds. "In the meantime, I'm going to give you some antihistamine ointment. It should help with any itching you're feeling, and it shouldn't agitate this rash you have. Do not put the ointment on any of the broken skin. If you find that the ointment is agitating it and making your symptoms worse, stop using it immediately. I also recommend keeping this bandaged in the meantime."

"Do ya think this is anythin' serious, doc?" Cid asked.

"If you're wondering if this affliction is life-threatening, then the answer is no, I don't believe so. It is, however, something we do not want to overlook." The doctor reached for the tray at his side and proceeded to apply the ointment as well as some gauze to cover the entirety of the rash. "We will send some bandaging supplies home with you. Change it daily after washing the skin."

Vincent nodded and watched the doctor apply the bandage tape to hold the gauze in place. "What do you think could be the cause of this?"

"I am not too certain, but we will have those answers in a couple of days," the doctor answered. "There are numerous things that can cause a rash. I don't believe it is viral, and this rash isn't what we typically see in parasitic or fungal rashes. I initially thought bacterial upon first glance, but judging by what you told me, I'm inclined to think that is not the case either. This simply may be a case of basic contact dermatitis."

"I don't think a basic contact derma-whatever would cause him ta scratch through his own skin," Cid quipped.

"Of course," the doctor responded. "That is why we will run the tests so we can rule out what could be doing this. Once we have the results, we can start on a more precise treatment plan."

Vincent nodded. He wished the answer put him at ease. He thought back to the encounter with the stranger and questioned whether or not he was to blame for this. The touch had burned after all, and it was not long after that the itch had escalated into a bleeding wound. "What things would cause contact dermatitis?

"Several things, to be honest." As the doctor finished wrapping the last strip of medical tape around the bandage, he proceeded to gather up the empty packages to drop into the trash. "It can be something as simple as repeated use of a type of soap or shampoo, touching a type of plant, or even some lotions."

Vincent frowned gently. "What about chemicals? I assume the same can be said for those?"

"Of course," the doctor responded. "All chemicals have the potential to cause severe reactions, even more so if a person has sensitive skin."

While Vincent had already assumed the doctor's answer, the confirmation only cemented the notion in his mind that the stranger had done something to him. Nodding, Vincent moved on to his next question. "Will it take long to cure this?"

The doctor looked to Vincent and gave him a smile and a pat on the shoulder. "Since we do not know what we are dealing with just yet, I cannot give you that answer. All I can say right now is that we will have answers for you as quickly as possible. I will call you as soon as we have the results so we can begin a treatment plan."

Vincent nodded and looked to his wrapped hand and nodded. "Alright. Thank you for your help."

"It's no trouble," the doctor said and wheeled the tray out of the way. He walked to the sink to wash his hands and said, "In the meantime, just keep the rash dry and clean. Wear gloves over it, if necessary, when doing tasks that could get the bandaging wet. Hopefully, by keeping it covered, it will not be agitated by any external sources."

Vincent nodded and got up from the bed and held his hand out for his jacket that Cid had been holding for him. "Is there anything else I should be doing in the meantime?" he asked.

"Aside from what I told you, not much. The only thing I can suggest is to be mindful of things you come in contact with over the next while, in the event this is due to something in your environment."

Vincent nodded in agreement and slipped his jacket on. "I will. Thank you."

"Not a problem. Is there anything else I can help you with before you leave?"

"I don't think there is." Vincent paused as he zipped his jacket when another thing came to mind. He hadn't felt that it was significant, but then again, he wasn't too sure what to think after what had just happened. "Now that you ask, I have been having some trouble with my hearing lately."

"Oh?" the man asked as he washed his hands. "What seems to be the trouble?"

"Ringing in my ears. I didn't think of it much of it before, but since I'm here..."

"I can take a look," the doctor replied. He motioned to the table again for Vincent to sit, and he pulled down the otoscope from its hook on the wall and looked into each of Vincent's ears. "When did this start? Have you ever experienced this before?"

"It started not long after I got out of the hospital," Vincent answered, staying as still as he could be. "I can't recall a time that I've had this before."

"Were you in for a head injury?"

"It wasn't the reason for it, but it may very well have been one of my injuries."

As the doctor did his examination, Vincent explained the circumstances that led him to be admitted into the hospital. The doctor hung up the instrument on its hook and followed up with a few more questions. "What else can you tell me about this ringing? Is it in both ears? Can you describe the tone or volume of it?"

"Both ears. It's high pitched, and sometimes loud enough that I can't hear anything else but that noise," Vincent described as he fidgeted with the cuff of his jacket. "It doesn't last for too long, thankfully."

"I see. Do you find there is anything that either improves or worsens this ringing? Does it happen at any given point of the day, or perhaps when you are stressed?"

"I can't say as I've noticed-" Vincent paused in mid-sentence as he thought back to the last encounter with the stranger, then to the other occasions when the ringing in his ears had occurred. "Now that you mention it, from what I can recall, it does seem to align with moments that I was feeling a bit stressed."

The doctor nodded once again, his expression reading as if he knew something Vincent didn't. "Have you ever had a history of suffering from depression or anxiety?"

Vincent's expression fell flat, looking slightly ashamed. "You could say that, yes," he said. He wasn't about to delve into those tales unless it was absolutely necessary.

"Ya did have that panic attack not long ago," Cid added from the side.

"I see," the doctor said as he walked to the sink to wash his hands. "Perhaps we have our diagnosis, after all. One which may explain our rash here as well."

Vincent's eyes narrowed in confusion. "What do you mean?"

"Perhaps what you are suffering from is nothing more than anxiety. Stress can do many horrible things to the body, more than most realize. Such as hearing, for example. It can cause an onset of tinnitus, though the degree of what one person to the other suffers from it can vary." He grabbed a few sheets of paper towel out of the dispenser and turned to face Vincent as he dried his hands. "It can also be the catalyst of nervous tics. For some, it's as harmless as tapping your fingers or your feet, but for others, it can be a bit more damaging. Such as nail-biting, biting their lips or the inside of their cheeks. Or," the doctor motioned to Vincent's freshly bandaged hand, "scratching or picking."

Vincent stared in disbelief and couldn't help himself from sounding skeptical of the conclusion. "You think I did this... because of anxiety?" The thought seemed unfathomable to Vincent. He could agree that, in many ways, he was a textbook example of depression, anxiety, and a plethora of other mental issues. Yet even with this knowledge, Vincent couldn't bring himself to believe that he had become so distressed to inflict such injuries upon himself unknowingly.

As if reading his thoughts, Cid stepped over to Vincent's side, his hands on his hips, and seemingly just as skeptic judging by the look on his face. "Doc, I've known Vince fer a long time. I can vouch fer the fact that he's got his fair share o' issues, but none that bad that he's scratched clean through his own skin."

The doctor held up his hand as if to stop Vincent and Cid's thoughts in their tracks. "I'm not saying this _is_ the case, but rather a theory. I have had many cases come through these doors, and it never fails to shock me to see anxiety has pushed some people to do." The doctor tossed the used paper towel into the wastebasket. "You'll have to forgive me if you took insult by this, I was merely trying to find the simplest explanation for both your symptoms. Occam's razor, if you will. It could be something as simple as stress-induced tinnitus, as well as a contact allergy and nothing more. But, as I said earlier, we will know more once we have the test results back."

The doctor offered the two a smile and stepped over to a cabinet on the wall and withdrew some packets of gauze and micropore tape. "I'll send this home with you. This will be enough for one bandage change. You can find these at any store as well, so if you need more, they will be easy to find. In the meantime, keep the wound clean and dry, use the ointment as directed, and take it easy for the next few days and see if you notice any issues with your hearing during that time. If you find it is still agitating you or it is growing worse, I suggest booking an appointment with a physician or specialist to run further tests."

Vincent nodded as he silently took the packets offered. He was still trying to absorb what the doctor had suggested as a possibility for his mystery ailments, and the thought of it made him feel sick, even ashamed of himself. "I'll do that," Vincent spoke in a quiet, nearly dejected tone. He carefully tucked the items into his pockets and rose to stand once more. "Thank you for your time."

"Any time," he said, offering Vincent a kind smile. "I hope the remainder of your day is a good one. Take care of yourself."

The doctor opened the examination room door to let the two leave. Vincent stepped out of the room with Cid and made way down the hallway to the exit. Vincent looked over his hand and said, "Hopefully, this will be resolved soon."

"It will be," Cid said with confidence. "How does it feel now? Still itchy?"

"It's not bad," Vincent answered. "If anything, if I do scratch at it now, I won't be damaging the skin. Not with these bandages."

"That's true," Cid agreed. "Don't need ya bleedin' all over the place."

"Agreed." Vincent shook his head as his thoughts refused to go silent. "Cid, do you think he was right? That this could all be caused by anxiety?"

Cid shook his head in response. "I can't say as I agree with him on that. I've seen ya a whole lot worse than what you've been lately, and ya never got that bad," he said with a nod to Vincent's hand. "I wouldn't take what he said ta heart. Yer doin' great, and I'm proud o' ya fer comin' along as well as ya have. Don't let what he said stomp down that progress."

Vincent was attempting to not allow that to be the case, and yet a small piece of him couldn't help feel as though he had failed in his task to change who he was. He had let his emotions rule him before, and now it was affecting him but in a different way. Then again, he was inclined to agree with Cid. Granted, he was no expert in the medical field, so his opinion didn't hold as much weight as the doctor's, and yet he knew in his heart that he was better than what he once was. He could _feel_ that difference in him, and it was something he did not want to lose. Nodding, he looked up and took a deep, reinvigorating breath. "I am better than I was before. This is just a bump in the road, right?"

Cid smiled warmly at the gunman and gave him a wink. "That's right, it is." He lifted a hand and rubbed Vincent's shoulder in a comforting touch. "But enough o' that fer now. No point focusin' on it when it ain't gonna help ya any ta do so. Fer now, let's just head home and have somethin' ta eat. I'll whip somethin' up, and you can just sit back and relax with a drink. I don't want ya liftin' a finger tonight."

"Cid, I am sure I can help with something as simple as making a meal."

"Yeah, but the doctor did say fer you ta take it easy, so yer gonna damn well take it easy," Cid argued. "Besides, I don't want ya gettin' yer hand dirty. Or, Gaia forbid, ya get somethin' hot splashed on it and ya burn yerself and make that injury even worse. So just sit this one out. I'll take care of it."

Vincent knew well enough from several occasions in the past that when it came to having a debate with Cid, there was a time to be firm and a time to just let him win the argument for the betterment of everyone's health. And judging by the look Cid was giving him, being firm was not an option. Sighing, Vincent reluctantly agreeing that perhaps it would be for the best if he did just sit back if only for tonight, to put Cid at ease. "Fine. I'll take it easy tonight, but I make no promises regarding tomorrow."

Cid's stern expression cracked just enough for a smile to appear. "We'll see what happens when tomorrow comes. Fer now I want ya restin', and that's it."

Resigning to the fact that Cid would not let Vincent change his mind, he nodded and offered a smile in response. "Whatever you say, Chief."


	8. Chapter 8

"Yanno, if ya keep stayin' indoors as much as ya have been, ya ain't gonna be pale anymore. Yer gonna be see-through."

Vincent looked at the blonde over the edge of the book he held within his hands, a thin brow raised in a show of defiance. "Well, you did always want me to be more transparent."

"Yeah, emotionally, not physically."

"Too late," Vincent said as he turned the page in his book. "What's done is done. The process has already started."

"Vince."

"Can't stop it now."

"Vince..."

"Don't worry. I'll be sure to wear a bell around my neck so you won't lose me."

"Ha-ha, very cute." Cid stepped behind the couch Vincent was sitting upon and wrapped his arms around Vincent's shoulders. "C'mon. Let's go out fer a bit, hmm?"

Vincent internally squirmed at the idea and eyed the door warily. It had been three days since he had left the apartment, and he was more than content enough to remain indoors as he felt more relaxed in doing so. Granted, Vincent knew he could not hide indoors forever, but the urge to leave his safe place was nonexistent, and he wanted nothing more but to remain in the cozy little apartment and know that nothing and no one could bother him. "There's nothing too special going on today, is there?" he asked. "You said yourself there's never too much to do around Midgar."

"Still won't hurt ta get out every once in a while." Cid tipped Vincent's head to the side with a nudge and pressed a kiss to the pristine skin there. "As much as I like havin' ya all to myself here, I gotta share every once in a while."

Vincent's eyes drifted shut as he felt the lips against his neck, a slight shiver going down his spine as the stubble tickled his skin. "And who might you be trying to share me with today?"

"Reeve," Cid answered. He pressed another kiss to the pulse he felt against his lips. "He called and asked how you were doin'. Said he'd like ta meet up fer a bit and see how yer doin'."

"He could have called me and asked that himself."

"Ain't the same," Cid said. "Won't hurt ya to get out fer a bit." At Vincent's expected silence, Cid nipped at the skin behind Vincent's ear and added, "And I'll make sure that no creeps sneak up on ya this time."

Vincent slowly closed the book within his hands in order to reach up and run his fingers through Cid's hair. "I know you think I'm being foolish." The encounter with the stranger had admittedly set him back, but there was simply something about the other that set off warning signs within him, a reaction he did not understand and was wary of learning the reason as to why.

"Not at all." Cid pulled away just to step around the couch and take a seat beside the gunman. He wrapped his arms around Vincent and pulled him into a comforting embrace. "Don't think yer foolish, just that yer frettin' too much. I'll take on some of the worry fer ya, okay?" Cid pressed a kiss against the bed of black hair.

Vincent exhaled and nestled his head against Cid's chest, his worries and concerns slowly bleeding out and being sucked away as if Cid's body was a sponge that was absorbing the ill emotions that had been slowly poisoning him. "If you think you can take on such a burden."

"I'm sure I'll live. Now that that's settled, go get dressed, and we'll head out."

Vincent watched as the book was pulled from his hands and set down upon the table. The next thing he knew, Cid was rising from the couch and pulling him to his feet as well. "Yes sir, Chief," Vincent retorted and proceeded to make his way to the bathroom to freshen up for their venture outdoors.

Within a half hour, Vincent and Cid had gotten themselves ready and ventured downtown to the coffee shop Reeve and Cid had agreed to meet. The duo made their way inside the building and seized a table for the three of them and waited for Reeve's arrival. The commissioner had not yet shown up, but Vincent knew how diligent the commissioner was about keeping appointments and knew that it would not be long before the man arrived.

As expected, just after the waiter left with their order of drinks, Reeve entered the building. Cid waved to Reeve, catching his attention, and soon enough, Reeve was joining them at the table. "I'm sorry I am late," he apologized.

"I would hardly call thirty seconds as late," Vincent commented.

The commissioner laughed gently as he slid into his seat. "Correct. I suppose I am just used to being the first to always arrive for a meeting. How have you both been fairing?"

"Not bad myself," Cid was the first to answer. "Just gotta work on gettin' this one out an' about a bit more."

Vincent grunted at the nudge he received from Cid's elbow. "I'm not that bad yet."

"Yet," Cid repeated, emphasizing it as the keyword within Vincent's statement.

Vincent grunted, crossing his arms over his chest. He could admit that perhaps there was some truth to that, but he was not inclined to do so at the current moment. "I've been alright. How about yourself? How have you been doing?" Vincent asked before Cid could say more.

"Rather well, thank you. Work has kept me rather busy, but that is nothing new." It was then that Reeve's eyes were drawn to the bandages that covered Vincent's hand, and he motioned with a nod of his head. "Vincent, what happened to your hand?"

"The doctors aren't too sure," Vincent said in response. He lifted a hand to settle upon the bandages, fighting the urge to scratch at them. "The only answer they have is that the rash is getting worse, but they don't know what is causing it."

"Is it serious?" Reeve asked.

"Serious enough, I suppose? There's no infection, and they don't believe it can be contagious, but they suggested wrapping it for the time being as well as applying an ointment to it between bandage changes just in case."

"At least the bandages keep him from scratchin' his skin off," Cid added.

Reeve shifted uncomfortably in his seat as he pondered the possible severity of the mystery affliction that had befallen his friend. "I am sorry, Vincent. That certainly doesn't sound pleasant. I truly hope this isn't a side effect of the treatments you received while in the hospital."

"I wondered about that myself," Cid admitted. "But ya would've thought that the side effects would'a showed up when he was in the hospital, right?"

"Perhaps," Reeve agreed. He was about to continue when the waiter approached the table and asked Reeve what he would like to drink while setting down a menu before him. Reeve ordered nothing more than a coffee and a pastry for himself. Only once everyone's orders at the table had been taken, and the waiter had left did Reeve speak again. "As I was about to say, it does seem unlikely that a reaction to any treatments would be worsening this long after being released, though it isn't a theory to completely refute either for that matter. It is a new type of treatment, after all."

"Experimental?" Vincent asked warily.

"No, not experimental," Reeve was quick to reassure. "It is _new_ , yes, but not experimental. I wouldn't have dared to subject you to that if I didn't know the outcome. That is why this is troubling to me," he said as he looked upon the bandages once more. "Whatever it is, I truly hope it is resolved."

Vincent exhaled and nodded in agreement as he looked upon the bandages again. "So do I."

"That makes three of us," Cid said as he leaned back in the booth. "I've been wantin' to tape oven mitts to his hands ta keep him from scratchin'."  
Reeve chuckled at the thought. "I wouldn't put such a thing past you."

"Nor did I. And that's why I went to the hospital," Vincent said, managing to smirk.

Reeve's smirk mirrored Vincent's, and he gave him a wink. "Smart move."  
Drinks and pastries were brought to the table not long after. The three quickly dug into the delicious treats while talking over the events of the past weeks. The topics were lighthearted and bore no weight of severity to them, something that Vincent appreciated. Cid ended up ordering a second helping of the dessert that he had picked out and soon enough finished that off as well.

"You're really in love with that, aren't you?" Vincent asked as he watched Cid scrape the remnants of the dessert off his plate with his fork and finish that off as well. He was almost expecting Cid to lick the plate clean.

"Not as much as you," Cid commented, smirking as he saw a hint of red grace Vincent's cheeks. He chuckled and set the fork down on the plate and set it aside with the other dishes to be taken away. "But it's a close runner up. Think I'm gonna get some more to take home."

"More?" Vincent asked. "You're going to make yourself sick."

Cid grinned mischievously and leaned in, so his lips were only millimetres from Vincent's ear and said, "Be worth it ta lick some off ya." Cid's grin only seemed to grow tenfold as Vincent's cheeks turned nearly as red as his eyes. "I'll be back in a bit," he said and slipped from the table.

Reeve watched Cid leave, amusement twinkling in his eyes. "He's rather incorrigible at times, isn't he?"

"Very," Vincent confirmed as he drew his unbandaged hand across his face. He drew his hand down to his chin to prop his head up, then looked to the main counter and watched Cid put in his request to the other worker presently running the till. "But I don't think I could imagine him acting any other way."

"Nor can I," Reeve agreed and also watched Cid from a distance. "He has been that way for as long as I have known him. It's an adjustment, but the attitude begins to grow on you after a while."

"Mmm, it does. Like a fungus." Both the men shared a soft laugh between them. Vincent picked up his cup and observed the small amount remaining within it. "In all honesty, however, I do not mind it. He's helping me break out of my shell a bit more."

"I have noticed that," Reeve commented, smiling. "You two do well together, and it's good to see." Reeve cupped his hands around his drink and fell back into an even more relaxed pose in the booth seat. "With that being said, how have things been going? Have you put some thought into future plans for yourself?"

Vincent downed the remainder of the cooled coffee in the cup and replaced it on the saucer, shaking his head. "Not yet, to be honest," Vincent replied. "For the first few days out of the hospital, I felt the urge to do that, just make plans and try to think of what to do next. The urge has settled a bit more after that, mostly thanks to Cid. I've mostly just been taking things day by day instead." Without consciously thinking of it, Vincent began to scratch at the bandage as he continued to look to Reeve. "For the most part, it's been going well. It's nice to be living a domesticated lift style rather than a fractured one."

"That's good to hear." Reeve's attention was drawn to Vincent's hands the moment the scratching started. "You said, 'for the most part.' Is there something troubling you? Or were you simply referring to your hand," he asked with a nod to what Vincent was doing.

Vincent looked to his hands and immediately ceased the digging he was doing with his nails against the bandages. He made a mental note to add another layer of bandages when he returned home, so he didn't shred what was already covering his hand. Vincent slowly exhaled a controlled breath and settled his hand over the bandage. "There has been more than this mystery rash that has been bothering me lately," he began to open up. "Cid thinks maybe I'm being paranoid, but I'm not sure. I just can't shake the feeling none the less."

"Such as what?"

Thinking of where to start, Vincent thought it best to ask Reeve the question he had failed to ask him long ago when the thought first came to mind. "You keep up with who is on staff at ShinRa, correct?" At Reeve's nod, Vincent furthered on to ask, "Are there many new Turks in the ranks?"

After giving a brief description of the man Vincent had encountered, Reeve slowly shook his head. "No, I cannot say as I can recall anyone who fits such a description. Then again, aside from the Director and a handful of others higher in the ranks, I rarely do interact with many of the Turks. Why do you ask?"

Vincent felt unsure of mentioning the tale or not to Reeve, but a part of him was bursting at the seams to share it with someone in order to get to the bottom of what troubled him. "I've had a couple encounters with someone that I believed to be one. He just had that aura about him, and the attire seemed rather fitting of a Turk." The statement itself caused him to look out the window and scan over the people he could see. "I've only seen him a couple times, but each time has set me on edge in some way."

Reeve leaned against the table, his body language shifting from relaxed to troubled. "How so? Has he threatened you?"

"No, he's not done anything like that. He's made me feel uneasy, yes, but nothing in the vein of threatening to cause me any harm. Granted, I did worry that he had done something to me during the one encounter," he said with a nod to his bandaged hand. "He had grabbed me on this hand, and the touch burned, like there was something acidic burning my skin."

"Oh?" Reeve spoke, his concern growing. "Do you believe he did something to you?"

"I can't say for sure, but that is what my gut is leading me to believe," Vincent answered. "When I was in the Turks, we used similar techniques using dyes or other substances to tag suspects or points of interest during undercover work. With that being said, it's not a difficult feat to switch out a dye with something harmful."

"I suppose," Reeve said, evidently trying to wrap his mind around the idea. "Do you think it's possible this man could have transferred something that damaging over to you? Did you mention anything to the doctor about this?"

"No, I didn't," Vincent admitted. "The thought had come to mind, but I didn't want to make blind accusations of the sort until I had more details. They took swabs of my hand to be tested. If the tests show chemical residue was present, then at least I'll know."

"You should have mentioned it," Reeve gently chastised.

Vincent nodded. "Perhaps I should have. As it was, a greater part of me was still trying to understand what was happening to me. It's been a long time since I've suffered from such small ailments. I can't say as I'm used to this feeling." Vincent snorted as he heard himself say those words. "I'm sure that sounds rather foolish to you."

"No, not at all," Reeve spoke in a note of understanding. "I'm sorry, Vincent. Such a thought had not occurred to me."

"It's fine," Vincent assured him, brushing off the worry with a wave of his hand. Realizing how they had deviated from the original topic, Vincent picked up from where they had left off. "Anyway, that's why I asked, in case you happened to know if he was part of the Turks or not. I did get the sense that he knew me."

"Personally or just from word of mouth?"

"He's never said either way." Vincent shook his head and ran his fingers through his hair. "To be fair, I didn't bother to ask either. It could be he has heard of me simply from the news. Many others seemed to have recognized me because of this."

"Having been a Turk yourself and being well known through the department would offer another explanation," Reeve mused aloud.

"There is that as well," Vincent agreed. "It's been unnerving, to say the least. However, having Cid around does help ease my nerves, and I am grateful for that."

"Understandably. Have any other strange occurrences been happening?" Reeve asked.

"Not especially." Vincent then snorted as the memories of other small scenarios made their way to the forefront of his mind. "Other than the kindness of strangers and flowers being left outside of my apartment."

Reeve raised a brow. "Flowers?"

"I know. Silly, isn't it?" His fingers moved to scratch at the bandages that covered the raw skin of his hand, unable to help himself as he recounted the few events that had taken place. "It happened some time ago. Cid figured it was left there by the staff from the building. I have a feeling I know who their vendor is," Vincent added as he thought of the young child with the cart.

"Did receiving the flowers bother you?"

"A bit, at first," Vincent admitted. "I know that must sound silly, considering it was something so harmless, but I just felt that it was odd such a thing was left for me. It made me wonder who would leave them and what the reason was behind leaving such a thing."

Reeve fell silent after offering nothing more than a hum of acknowledgement to the statement. His fingers moved slowly against the porcelain surface of the cup before him, drawing invisible patterns upon it, a pensive look upon his face. "Perhaps you were simply reading into it too much for the sake of finding something to be concerned about?" Reeve questioned.

Vincent's expression conveyed the thought that he was insulted by such an insinuation. "Why would I do something like that? It's not as though I enjoy feeling paranoid."

Reeve lifted his hands in defence of his statement. "Forgive me, that's not exactly what I meant. What I mean to say is..." The man paused as he tried to properly articulate his thoughts within his mind before speaking once again. "You have faced many horrors in your life, Vincent. Horrors that I nor anyone can truly understand in the capacity that you have. I am sure that we do not even know half of what you went through." Reeve's voice was softened with the heaviness of the thought, and a dismal haze lingered in his eyes. He lowered his hands back to the table and loosely folded them together. "Having been betrayed as you were back then, it would make sense that you are uneasy now that things are peaceful. As you said earlier, you find yourself bothered as to what you will do next with your life, and perhaps the experiences of your past is what is leading you to feel such a way. I could very well be wrong in this assumption, but perhaps you are seeing danger or mystery where there is none because you have not been able to experience a life where those two things did not play a major part in it. So, when it comes to something as simple as receiving a bundle of flowers, instead of perceiving it as a generous gift, you instead saw it as a mystery or even a danger."

Vincent felt his chest tighten at the implication, and he couldn't help but grit his teeth the more the man spoke. "Do you believe my judgment is that clouded?"

"No. I certainly don't believe that is the case," Reeve spoke, his voice remaining calm. "I am simply offering another point of view upon the matter. As the old saying goes, sometimes a person cannot see the foarrangetrees."

A part of Vincent wished to make a rebuttal, but in holding back, he started to think over what Reeve had said, more particularly the events that had been or were troubling him. The random flowers left at his apartment had been nothing more than a singular event. The only thing he had suffered in that situation was a headache. The only thing that possibly posed as a threat was the stranger. Yet, even though Vincent knew he was in what he deemed a weakened state simply from suffering from a handful of minor ailments and the lack of his supernatural counterparts to aid him, he doubted he would not be able to handle himself in a situation where he needed to defend himself. Why he hadn't taken solace in such a thought before made him realize how foolish he had been to worry in the moments that he had. Vincent looked at his arm, blunt nails gently scraping against the white bandage tape. It was only then he realized how right Reeve was.

As the silence lingered between the duo, Reeve seemingly grew troubled by this and spoke up once again. "I am sorry, Vincent. I didn't mean to make you feel as though your worries are invalid. That was not my intention," he apologized. "I can speak with Tseng and ask about the man you described to see if he is a Turk or not. If he is not, I could also speak to President ShinRa and work on arranging a protection detail provided by the Turks. They can follow you and watch out for this person you mentioned."

"No," Vincent sputtered on the heels of Reeve's offer. "It's fine. Really. There is no need to go to measures like that." Crimson eyes shifted to look to Reeve, and he exchanged a smile with him in hopes that it eased Reeve's worries. The man did certainly fret a lot. "Thank you for the offer, but maybe you are right. Maybe I am making a mountain out of a molehill, or molehills in this case," he corrected.

"I didn't mean to make you feel that was the case," Reeve apologized again."

Vincent shook his head and lifted his gaze to Reeve. "Please, there is no need for apologies. You are right. The only thing troubling me right now is how foolish I've been to not realize the very thing you pointed out." Vincent pulled a smile onto his face for the other, wishing he knew of another way to reassure the other he had done no wrong. "Thank you, Reeve. I needed to hear that."

"If you say so," Reeve responded, sounding uncertain now. "But if you change your mind, and you wish for me to arrange something-"

"You'll be the first person I call," Vincent finished for him. "I promise. Thank you, Reeve. For everything."

Reeve seemed to be more at ease, and Vincent could tell this was so by how the commissioner's shoulders relaxed, and the familiar smile softened to its usual pleasant one. "Any time, Vincent."

"Alright, it's all paid for," Cid said upon his return to the table. He looked between the two and settled his hands upon his hips. "Am I interuptin' somethin' here?"

"No, not at all," Reeve spoke, rising from his seat in the process and slipping out of the booth. "Don't worry, Cid. I wouldn't try to steal him away from you."

"I should hope not. Tseng'd be pissed if ya did that."

The statement sent a wave of red flushing across Reeve's cheeks and a look of surprise on Vincent's. "Hardly," Reeve stated, his hands immediately smoothing out any wrinkles in his jacket as if hoping the effort helped wipe away the heat that had risen to his face as well. "You two have a pleasant day. I will keep in touch."

Vincent managed to bid the other farewell before Reeve quickly departed the cafe and out of the building and down the sidewalk. He walked not too far behind with Cid at his side. "You were teasing him, right?" Vincent asked of Cid as they also stepped out.

"Why would I make up somethin' like that?" The blonde then pointed down the street to where Reeve had walked. "Look fer yerself."

Vincent did as instructed and looked down the street to see Reeve walking and only coming to a pause at a car, a door opening upon his approach. Tseng slipped out from the interior, and Vincent watched from a distance as the two exchanged a short conversation that lasted no longer than a few seconds before Tseng helped Reeve inside the vehicle. Tseng looked up from closing the door, their eyes meeting momentarily. The Turk nodded his head in salutation to the duo, then slipped in the driver's seat and soon took off down the street.

"Ya never noticed how much time those two spend together?"

"I..." A pause followed as Vincent mulled over such past events. "I'd not thought anything of it."

"Hmph." Cid gripped a cigarette between his teeth from the pack he had withdrawn from his pocket while Vincent looked on. "Thought maybe ya did but just didn't say anythin'. Since that's how ya are." Cid lit the cigarette and proceeded to return all the items into his breast pocket. "He's never said outright if it's the case or not but can't tell me otherwise. No one blushes like that unless there's a thread o' truth to it. And I'm sure fer as high up in the food chain as Tseng is at ShinRa that bein' Reeve's personal driver everywhere ain't high on his priority list unless he wants it to be. Otherwise, he'd be gettin' someone else to do it. Not himself."

"Huh." With Cid's observations playing out in his mind, it made him think back to the conversation he and Reeve had just shared. "Maybe I am losing my touch."

"Whassat?"

A blink summoned Vincent from his inner thoughts, and he shook his head upon returning to the present moment. "It's nothing. Just thinking out loud," Vincent deflected. "Come on. Let's get back to the truck and head home."

Cid grunted but didn't say anything more. The two fell in step with one another and started their journey down the busy sidewalk, the duo weaving back and forth to avoid clusters of people that they came across. Vincent's eyes surveyed his surroundings with usual wariness as they approached their vehicle. Vincent began to scratch at his bandages once again, and Cid took note of this the moment it happened.

Cid reached out and slapped the hand away. "Quit scratchin'."

Vincent frowned but did as he was told as he knew that he shouldn't be scratching. "I can't help it," he muttered gently and slipped his hands into his jacket pockets. "Every time I look at it, the urge to scratch just kind of happens."

"Maybe ya need somethin' else ta look at then to keep ya from wantin' to scratch."

Vincent's brow raised. "Like what? Nothing else is working." Short of requesting a new gauntlet to be placed over his arm, something he had truly been considering as of late, he wasn't sure what else to do other than following the instructions from the doctors. Upon reaching their vehicle, Vincent opened the passenger door and slid in to sit in the seat. "I'm open to any suggestions you may have."

"I might have one," Cid replied. The blonde reached inside his jacket and dug around one of the interior pockets for a moment before withdrawing a small silver box. "How 'bout this?"

Vincent's brows creased in confusion as he looked between Cid and the item held out before him. Hesitantly, Vincent took the box and looked it over for a moment before he opened it up and looked at the gold band with a singular red gem embedded in the center of it. Vincent stared at the ring for an unknown amount of time before he was able to speak. "Cid, what is this?" he asked cautiously.

"That depends," Cid said as he leaned against the frame of the door. "What do ya want it to be?"

"Are you... actually proposing to me?" Vincent asked, his mind still whirling at the implications.

Cid smirked gently. "Is that what ya want me to do?"

A pause followed as he pulled the ring out of the box and turned it over. It had been a fleeting fantasy that had drifted through his mind upon occasion, admittedly more as of late now that their relationship had been growing more and more. It still felt odd at how quickly their relationship had advanced, and yet it felt so right to him. A soft smile stretched across his lips. "Yes, actually. I do."

"Then a proposal it is," Cid said, the smirk growing larger. Cid leaned down and pulled the other in for a lingering kiss then looked to the ring, asking, "Do ya like it?"

"I do," Vincent said and returned his attention to it. "You have good taste."

"I'm just lucky that way." Cid took the ring and slipped the ring onto Vincent's finger, gently wiggling it into place. "So there, now maybe when ya look at yer hand, you'll start thinkin' o that rather than what's under the bandage."

"I would like to think so," Vincent agreed, astonished that it already seemed to be helping. How, he wasn't sure, but he wasn't about to question the why behind it and was going to simply enjoy for the time being.

Cid smiled and leaned down to give the other another kiss. "C'mon. Let's go home and celebrate then."

"Sounds good to me." Vincent pulled his legs into the vehicle so Cid could shut the door. He then looked upon the ring once again, smiling as he felt a new relief come over him, the urge to scratch no longer present now that his focus was redirected. Vincent carefully turned the ring on his finger, admiring the simple piece of jewelry as Cid turned on the vehicle to take them home.


	9. Chapter 9

The remainder of the evening had been a blissful one, to say the least, and the same was to be said for that night and early morning. Then again, this seemed to be the case for nearly every moment spent with Cid, as far as Vincent was concerned. Truthfully, he knew that this was all a part of the 'honeymoon phase' as many called it, but Vincent could not bring himself to care if that was the case or not and simply let himself enjoy the moments as they happened. Currently, Vincent was lounging on the couch with a cup of tea in hand as Cid had left to gather a handful of things for dinner as the man had promised to make him something special. Vincent had already felt spoiled enough, but he couldn't bring himself to tell Cid not to bother. Not that the pilot would have listened even if he tried.

Vincent continued to gaze at the ring on his finger, a soft smile gracing his lips. He still found it hard to believe, and this was part of the reason why he continued to stare at it as much as he did. The other part of him was ecstatic and eager to share the news with someone.

No sooner had the thought crossed his mind when his phone started rattling across the coffee table. Sitting up from his reclined position, Vincent stretched a hand out to pick up his phone. He somehow wasn't surprised it was Reeve. He pressed the button on the screen and stood up to make his way to the kitchen. "Reeve. I was just thinking of you."

"Oh?" Reeve spoke, sounding surprised. "I hope it was for a good reason?"

"Of course," Vincent said, chuckling.

Reeve also chuckled in response. "Good. How are you doing today?"

"Good," Vincent answered as he set down his cup only to gaze upon the ring again. "Very good, actually."

"I'm glad to hear that. You sound much better as well," Reeve commented. "Might I ask what brought on this sudden improvement, or is it best I not know?" he questioned in a teasing fashion.

Vincent chuckled. "Oh, it's nothing like that." It wasn't a complete lie, but Reeve didn't need to know of their nightly activities either, nor did he think the commissioner truly wanted to hear them. "Cid proposed to me yesterday." Vincent couldn't help but think of how strange it felt to hear himself say those words aloud.

Silence stretched on the other end of the line before Reeve expressed his surprise. "He did?"

"He did. I've been in a perpetual state of shock and joy ever since he gave me the ring," Vincent admitted. "It all feels so surreal."

"I wouldn't blame you for feeling that way. To be fair, I think that is how it often is for most people." Reeve laughed gently, one that bubbled with joviality. "I cannot believe he actually proposed. Not that I mean I'm shocked he proposed to you," Reeve quickly added. "It's just I had never perceived him to be someone who would take that step. To live with someone, yes, but not marriage."

"In all honesty, that had been my impression as well. Then again, I imagine most thought the same as me, as I admittedly feared the idea once upon a time," Vincent admitted. For so long, he had lived his life by treading cautiously as if waiting for the proverbial rug to be yanked from beneath him and send him tumbling. Vincent was glad he had managed to overcome such feelings. While he knew he still had far to go when it came to improving himself, the changes had already begun, and he knew it would only continue to improve, especially with Cid at his side. "Even so, I am glad for it. It feels right."

"That is what matters," Reeve commented. "I am so happy for you both, Vincent. Even before you both became a couple, I always believed you two made a wonderful pair. I am glad to see that bond has continued to grow over time. Congratulations. I wish you both the best."

"Thank you, Reeve." Feeling relief at finally having shared the news with someone, Vincent continued on to say, "Now I shall stop talking long enough for you to speak and tell me why you called."

Reeve laughed. "It's no trouble. I'm always happy to hear anything you have to share. That is what friends are for," he reminded. "I was just calling to let you know that I spoke to Tseng about our conversation yesterday. He became just as curious as yourself. I gave him the description of the man you spoke of, and he will cross-reference it with those in the department. He did say there were a few that fit the description. Once he has narrowed it down to the list of possible suspects, he will look into who is on active duty and working in the field in the city. Then, perhaps, we can pinpoint who it may have been the one causing you trouble."

"Reeve, you didn't need to do that for me," Vincent spoke, feeling a pang of guilt for having made the man go to such trouble.

"There is no need to thank me," Reeve spoke. "The more I thought on it, the more it made me realize how troubled I would be if I were in the same situation. And you were right to ask, considering your prior association with the Turks. Tseng assured me he would get to the bottom of it."

"I'll have to ask you to thank him for me once again," said Vincent. "In his opinion, does Tseng believe it could actually be one of the Turks?"

"I asked him that very question," Reeve admitted. "While he doesn't believe someone within the ranks would do the things you mentioned unless for a good reason, he knows you well enough to know you would not stir such trouble willingly against someone you believed to be a Turk. But, as he pointed out, it is not as though they have never had a Turk go rogue, so there is the possibility. The only other theory he raised was that it is merely someone attempting to pose as a Turk."

"All valid theories," Vincent agreed. He reached for the teapot to refill his cup as he mulled over the possibilities. "A part of me hopes that it is a Turk. Otherwise, I would feel rather foolish for him to do all this investigating only to find it is simply a random citizen on the streets."

"If you have the feeling that this man is a Turk, I trust your judgement that it is so. Tseng is inclined to believe so too."

"Thank you, Reeve," Vincent replied. "It helps to know I'm not going completely crazy."

"You're not going crazy."

Vincent snorted, unable to help himself at the thought that came to mind. "I'm marrying Cid. Most would deem this as evidence that I am."

A boisterous laugh came from the other end of the line in response. "Well, when you put it that way."

Vincent smirked and was about to speak again when he heard the apartment door open. "Speaking of which," he said as he watched Cid step into the apartment with a couple of bags in hand.

"His ears must have been burning," Reeve responded.

"Apparently," said Vincent as he moved the tea pot and his cup out of the way to make more space for the bags to be unloaded.

"I will not keep you any longer then. I will talk to you again soon. Please keep me updated on the future plans you have, and pass my congratulations on to Cid for me."

"I can do that," said Vincent. "Thanks again."

"You're welcome, Vincent. Take care."

Vincent put his phone down as the call disconnected. "That didn't take you too long. I actually thought you would be gone for a while yet."

"Well I could go back out if ya want more alone time," Cid offered.

Vincent caught sight of the smirk Cid was failing to hide and it only made his lips curl in a similar fashion. "I'll let it slide this time," he said as he unloaded the bags.

"Yer too kind," Cid praised with a bow of his head. "So who was that on the phone? I'm guessin' Reeve?"

"You guessed correctly," Vincent replied as he proceeded to put away the dry goods into their proper places. He let Cid put away the items designated for the fridge. "He was letting me know that Tseng would be looking into the man I've seen a couple of times. While we're not jumping to conclusions just yet, it may be the man is a Turk, or at least once was."

"Yer really all fired up over that guy, aren't ya?"

"Admittedly, yes. At least until yesterday when Reeve talked a bit of sense into me." Vincent closed the cupboard door and turned to lean back against the countertop, his hands resting on the edge of it. "Realistically, I know I could handle myself if an altercation arose, but..."

Cid closed the fridge as he tucked away the last of the items. "But what?" he asked as he came to stand in front of him.

"I guess I'm wondering how strong my abilities are now considering what I've been dealing with," Vincent said with a glance to his hand. While the symptoms he had been dealing with had not progressed to the point of unbearable, they were still enough to plant seeds of worry. "It's been a long time since I've dealt with any small afflictions, and seeing as how I still haven't heard anything from Chaos or the others... it's made me wondered what else was jarred loose inside of me and making me question just how capable or vulnerable I could be if I had to defend myself. I know that probably sounds silly to you, but it's a thought that still randomly comes to mind, more so when I'm facing something I worry could be a threat."

"Now don't start frettin' about that again," Cid spoke softly as he cupped Vincent's face in his hands. "Yer doin' fine. Now, as fer not bein' able ta hold yer own in a fight, I got no doubt that you'd be fine if it came down to that. Even so, ya gotta remember. Ya got me here too, yanno? It ain't just you anymore." He tipped Vincent's chin to make him look into his eyes. "Ya can't be superhuman every day. Ya gotta take a day or two off here and there."

Vincent snorted softly, a gentle smile tugging at his lips as Cid's words put him at ease once more. "I know," he said, moving his hands to settle on Cid's hips. "Thank you. Again."

Cid's usual smirk appeared on his face. "No problem," he said and leaned forward to steal a kiss. When he pulled away, he asked, "Want some wine? I got ya another bottle since the other was almost empty. We can have a drink or two, then I can get started on some o' the stuff fer supper."

"Sure," Vincent answered. "That sounds like a plan."

Soon enough, the two each had a drink in hand and Cid made the suggestion to stand on the balcony, mostly so he could have a cigarette at the same time they had their drinks. After lighting one up and taking a couple drags off it, he asked, "Had any thoughts on where ya wanna get married? Or is it still too soon fer you ta think on that yet?"

"To be honest, I hadn't thought of that yet. I guess I'm still in a bit of shock," Vincent admitted as he looked at his ring again.

Cid smirked. "Sorry?"

"You know, you really need to work on that sincerity thing," Vincent answered. "

Cid laughed gently. "I'll do my best." He bumped his hip with Vincent's. "But seriously, don't worry about rushin' plans. Not like we gotta plan it out yet if ya don't wanna. I'm lettin' you decide."

"I would like to hear your thoughts and ideas as well, you know. I'll see what I can come up with too," Viincentreplied as he looked down the street below. He smiled as he caught sight of the boy he had encountered some time ago, only recognizing who it was thanks to the small flower cart he pulled behind him. Upon looking at the half-full cart of flowers to mind, it offered him an idea. "Well, I had one just come to mind."

"That didn't take long," Cid teased. He bumped his hip against Vincent's and asked, "What do ya have in mind?"

"It may not be the fanciest, but it feels fitting in a way. What if we had a small ceremony in Aerith's church?"

The idea seemed appealing as Cid's face lit up at the idea. "Hey, I never would've thought o' that. That's a good idea," he complimented. "I like that."

Vincent huffed a gentle chuckle. "So do I. I never would have thought of that if it weren't for-" The rest of his words disappeared on him, like dust in the wind, as Vincent gazed down to look at the boy with the cart as he was handing off a flower to someone on the street. It wasn't just anyone he was handing a flower to, but was the currently-assumed Turk that Reeve had sent Tseng on the hunt for. The two on the sidewalk seemed to be speaking to one another before the boy started walking away, and the stranger soon looked up. Vincent stared at the stranger in the distance. He could have sworn the gaze was met. The unease that filtered through his system left Vincent feeling as though he had been drenched in ice-cold water. His muscles initially did not comply with his command to move, but thankfully a tug of his arm by Cid aided him in doing so.

"Hey, Vince? What's wrong?"

Vincent let go of his wine glass, leaving it to balance on the railing of the balcony as he backed into the apartment. "It's him," he said and quickly ducked into the apartment to retrieve his phone from the kitchen counter.

"Who?" Cid asked, the pilot quickly following behind.

"That man, the one I thought could be a Turk," Vincent answered. He snapped his phone up in his hand and was already entering in Reeve's number as he walked to the balcony. "He's on the street below."

"Where is he?" Cid asked, walking back out to look down on the street. "Point him out ta me."

"He's just down..." Vincent's heart fell in his chest as he looked at the spot where the man had last been standing, only to find he was no longer there. A sweeping glance of both sides of the street and in both directions revealed that the man was gone. "He's not there anymore."

"Are ya sure it was him that ya saw?"

"Quite," Vincent answered undoubtedly. He looked over the city landscape, taking into consideration all the places where the man could have disappeared. Between the numerous shops and alleyways alone, there were too many to count.

"Shit," Cid cursed quietly to himself. "Wish I knew where he fucked off to." Cid raised a hand to comb through his hair in frustration, then looked to the phone that Vincent clutched tightly in his hand. "Who were ya gonna call?"

"I was going to call Reeve," Vincent replied. Truthfully, he didn't know why other than the immediate thought of letting Reeve know he had spotted the man. Now that he had a second to think, it was a foolish thought. Reeve had already gone to the trouble of getting Tseng to look into who the mystery man was, and it had certainly not been enough time for any information to have been procured.

"Well?" Cid spoke as he looked between Vincent and the cellphone. "Go ahead and call him."

"There would be no point," Vincent replied and slowly slipped the phone into his pocket. "While I'm sure if I alerted him the presumed-Turk is in the area, there is not much they could do other than set up a security detail around the place."

"Ya make that sound like it's a bad thing."

"While it wouldn't be, I would rather not be the cause for people to be pulled from their posts for something so trivial," Vincent explained. "The building is secure, and you need to acquire the keycards in order to enter the building and elevator. Even if, for the sake of argument, that this man could bypass all that, I still have a gun."

"And me," Cid reminded him. He moved to turn Vincent to face him, his hands resting firmly on Vincent's shoulders. "If anyone even thinks of tryin' ta mess with ya, I ain't just gonna stand by and watch it happen. I've got yer back."

Vincent was thankful for the presence of Cid's grip on him, allowing the touch to ground him and calm his busy mind. "Thank you, Cid. I know," Vincent said with a soft smile accompanying it.

Cid offered a smile of his own. "I love ya."

"I love you too," Vincent spoke and allowed himself the liberty of stealing a kiss and wrapping his arms around Cid, simply enjoying the closeness of the other and allowing it to soothe his worries.. He couldn't help but look down over the edge of the balcony as he did so, unable to keep himself from wondering where the stranger was now.

"Why don't we go inside," Cid suggested. He pulled his head back enough to look at Vincent and raised his hands to cup Vincent's face between them, gently coaxing Vincent to look at him. "Better yet, why don't we go in and plan a trip?"

"A trip?" The sudden suggestion caught Vincent off guard. "To where?"

"Anywhere ya want," Cid answered. "We'll pack up some stuff and just go somewhere else, anywhere ya want. That way ya ain't worryin' about that guy or anythin' else anymore." A second later, Cid's signature smirk appeared on his face. "We can think of it as a practice run fer our honeymoon."

While Vincent had been uncertain of the suggestion at first, the remainder of Cid's statement had been enough to summon a soft laugh from him. "I can't say as I would mind that."

"Good." Cid planted another kiss on his lips then gathered the gunman into his arms in one swift movement. "Let's start the plannin' then."

Vincent chuckled and wrapped his arms around Cid's neck. "You know I can walk."

"I know. Just practicin' carryin' ya over the threshold."

~~**~~**~~**~~**~~**~~**~~**~~**~~**~~**~~**

The gunman frowned in his sleep, a soft moan coming from him at the disturbances breaking through the veil of slumber. Strange sounds and inaudible words came to him in the form of whispers that tickled his senses, each sounding rousing him even more, but it was the loud cry of his name from familiar lips that had him sucking in a sharp breath and jolting awake in an instant. Try as he might, he couldn't bring himself to move. Vincent laid paralyzed for an unknown amount of time, impatiently waiting for the sensation to go away. Once he was able to move his head, he turned his attention to his side, realizing it couldn't have been Cid that called out his name as the man was dead to the world beside him, snoring softly as he always did. Vincent was thankful that he had not awoken him. Vincent sighed, a feeling of gloom coming over him. He had thought the days of nightmares were gone, but apparently this was not the case. A part of him almost hated himself for wishing he could remember what it was about, especially when years of nightmares had him praying for the ability to forget such horrors when he awoke. He half wondered if the return of his nightmares was to blame on the current sighting of Turk. Considering how well he had been doing, he assumed this was the case.

Vincent lifted a hand and rubbed his chest, feeling a sickening pressure making itself known. Whether it was caused by the sudden awakening from his nightmare or a mere side effect from having a second helping of spicy ramen for dinner, he was unsure. He could only hope the sensation was not yet another side effect of the treatments, much like the rash. Vincent sat up in the bed and focused on taking several deep breaths in hopes of ridding the anxiety lingering in his veins. The thought of getting a drink to calm his nerves drifted through his mind, and he couldn't help but think such an idea was a good one. With that in mind, Vincent shuffled his legs out from beneath the covers and grabbed his pants that he had tossed on the floor by the bedside table. He slipped into them and rose from the bed and quietly exited the room. Vincent continued to focus on his breathing as he walked to the small bar in the living room, opening the cabinet to retrieve a bottle of spiced rum. He poured himself a drink while looking out the window before him, watching the twinkling lights of the city. He could hear the strange echoes once again that would send a chill down his spine. He tried to chase away the feeling by lifting the glass to his lips and downing back what he had just poured for himself then refilled it once again.

"I finally found you."

Vincent spun at the sudden voice, sending the tumbler and its contents flying. The shattering of the glass went unnoticed to Vincent as he settled his eyes upon the source of unease for the past weeks - the stranger with the book. Vincent asked himself how he had broken in so easily. A part of him wondered if that had been what had awoken him from his slumber, a subliminal warning provided to him by his subconscious to alert him danger was present. "What the hell are you doing here?" Vincent rasped once he was able to find his voice. "And how the _hell_ did you get in my home?"

"It wasn't easy," the man said, his gaze still as piercing as ever. "You've placed yourself in quite a fortress."

"Apparently not a strong enough one," Vincent retorted. His hand instinctively twitched at his side to reach for his gun, regardless of its absence. If Vincent was inclined to do so, he would have moved forward to physically throw the man out of his home, but Vincent never cared for close-range combat if he could avoid it. Slowly, Vincent shifted along the outer edge of the room, keeping his distance from the stranger while also closing the gap between himself and the hallway. If need be, which he assumed would be the case, he could always make a run for his gun that he had stored in the hallway closet. The idea became more appealing with every step he took. Knowing he needed a subtle distraction from his actions and where his movements were taking him, Vincent laid out some questions that had been lingering in his mind. "Who are you, and what do you want with me? Why have you been following me?"

"I am here to help you. There is something taking place that you have yet to understand," the dark-haired man spoke cryptically, his eyes following Vincent's every move. "If you would hear me out."

Vincent frowned at the elusive response, another thing that cemented his theory that this man was a Turk. "I'm hearing you right now, and what I am hearing are not answers to my questions," Vincent said while counting the number of steps remaining before he reached the hallway.

"I wish this was the case," the man spoke. He took a step toward him. "You have to come with me."

"And why would I do that?"

"The only way I am leaving here is by taking you with me, and I'll do what I have to do to make that so," he replied. "After all, I did make a promise to your friend."

Vincent came to a stop just a couple steps from the hallway. A part of him said that this was just a ploy by the other to distract him and yet the mention of this 'friend' of his had prodded Vincent's curiosity. "And which friend might that be?"

Vincent could see the man's lips move, but at the moment the other spoke, the painful ringing noise that had been plaguing him as of late erupted in his ears and masked the man's words. Vincent growled and brought his hands to his ears, using his fingers to plug them in a feeble attempt to ease the sharpness of the sound. As the ringing died down, Vincent heard a muffled response of, "You're running out of time."

Vincent lowered his fingers from his ears and glared at the man. "What is that supposed to mean?"

Vincent watched the man reach for the book he held under his arm and pull it out. The fear that a weapon was indeed concealed within it was enough to spur Vincent into action. In a second, he lunged at the man and wrestled the book with surprising ease out of his hands and backed away. Vincent flung the book open in hopes of claiming the weapon for his own use but instead was met with nothing more than pages with script that he didn't understand. "What is this?" he all but whispered to himself as he flipped through the pages. He frowned and returned his gaze to the motionless man, and he found himself returning to the questions posed before. "Why are you here? You said you needed to tell me something."

"Yes, if you would hear me," the man answered, his eyes remaining fixed on Vincent without even so much as blinking. "Who am I?"

"That's a question, not an answer. Who are you?" Vincent asked again.

"You already know who I am," the man said with a piercing gaze.

"If I did, I wouldn't keep asking," Vincent replied. "My best guess is you're a Turk, or at least once were."

"Close. Very close," the man spoke. "What are you holding?"

Vincent frowned, perplexed. "It's a book," he said, unsure how the item was to lead him to the answer he wanted. Unable to stop himself, he momentarily looked at the blank-cover book again. He could have sworn the book was gaining weight the longer he held it. "Why the guessing game?"

"Because you don't know the answer."

"And if I don't know, then you don't?" Vincent asked, regardless of the absurdity of the question.

"Precisely," he said. "You may claim to be a man of reason, and yet you have gone to great lengths to avoid the truth," spoke the stranger. "What are you holding?" the man pressed.

"It's..." Vincent felt a wave of nausea hit him, and with it a bubble rose into his throat. "No... no, this can't be," he said in a near whisper, shivering as he looked at the old book. The generic item he held within his hands no longer seemed so plain, but instead far too familiar with its aged, yellowed pages sealed between worn, dark leather covers.

"What's my name, Vincent?"

"It doesn't make sense," he spoke, the ringing in his ears returning. "Where did you get this?"

"Who am I?"

A numbness seeped into Vincent's limbs, and his hold on the large book grew weak. The book fell from his hand, and he watched it fall as if in slow motion, like the item was floating downward through water. "Grimoire."

A hand reached out and took hold of the book. It wasn't the same hand that belonged to the stranger, but one Vincent remembered as a child, one that would reach to his bedside table for a storybook that would be read to him before he fell asleep. The hand caught the book, and Vincent's eyes trailed up the arm to the face he had not seen in since he was young. He swallowed, feeling tension from his chest rise into his throat just as he managed to croak out a singular word. "Dad."

"It took you long enough," the man spoke. The remnants of the stranger had faded away, only recognizable traits of his father present. Grimoire tucked the book under his arm and offered his son a soft but despaired smile. "I thought I was never going to get through to you."


	10. Chapter 10

Vincent's mind scrambled to make sense of what had just happened, his eyes darting between his father, the book, the broken glass on the floor, and the overall state of the apartment as if feeling he was suddenly in a foreign place. "How did you get here? Where is the other man?"

"There never was another man, Vincent," Grimoire explained. "It has been just us here the whole time."

"No, no, that can't be," Vincent argued. "He was the same man I saw on the street, the same one that grabbed my hand-"

"All of which were me," Grimoire interjected. "I didn't understand it myself, at first, until I learned you were seeing me as someone else."

Vincent shook his head. Shaking his head, he once again started to collect the scattered fragments within his mind to procure a coherent thought and focus on the crucial questions. 'This has to be a dream,' he told himself, this being the only logical explanation he had. It had been a long time since he had experienced any dreams, so it left him to believe his mind was making up for the lost time. "If that was you, why didn't you tell me who you were?" he asked. "Why did you look so different?"

The man snorted gently at the barrage of questions fired at him. "I've been trying to communicate with you from the first moment I encountered you, and yet something would always get in the way to keep you from hearing what I had to say," Grimoire proceeded to explain. "I must say, for a while I didn't think I was going to get through to you. You didn't make this an easy task. You always managed to keep yourself at arm's length or returned to your safety spots to keep yourself hidden from me." Grimoire let out a soft breath as he looked upon his son's distraught expression. "I know it is hard to believe." His red eyes cast a sweeping glance around the apartment. "This place... though it is comforting, it is not a place one should stay for long."

"What do you mean by 'this' place?" Vincent asked warily as a seemingly unfounded fear settled into him. He didn't want to hear the answer, but he knew he had to ask. As Grimoire started to speak, Vincent flinched once more as the ringing from before returned.

Another sigh left Grimoire as he took note of Vincent's reaction. "You're doing it again."

Vincent was only just able to hear Grimoire's statement as the ringing subsided once more. "I'm not doing anything," he insisted as he rubbed his ears. "It's my hearing. I've been having trouble with it since I left the hospital."

"The hospital?" Grimoire questioned curiously.

"Yes, the hospital. I woke up there after the battle with Omega."

"So that's where it started," Grimoire spoke softly. "You remember it then - where it all began."

Vincent lowered his hands from his ears and instead brought them to his chest. The sickening sensation that had been there since he had awoken in bed had not subsided, and it was only growing stronger by the second as his father spoke. "I don't know what you're talking about," Vincent answered as he backed up until the wall stopped him from moving further away.

"I think you do," Grimoire spoke dejectedly as he slowly started to close the distance between them. As he came to stand in front of Vincent, Grimoire raised his hands to place upon Vincent's shoulders. Only briefly did Vincent wonder where the book had suddenly disappeared to, but the thought was soon lost as his father spoke again. "This place, while being one of your own creation, you knew something about it wasn't right." He moved a hand and took hold of Vincent's wrist and held it between them to allow Vincent to focus on it. "Like this."

Vincent looked to his hand, once again confused when he realized the bandages that had been protecting his arm not long ago were no longer present, and he was gazing upon the angry-looking rash that had been hidden beneath it. Like many times before, the urge to scratch the skin returned. His fingers twitched at the thought, but he didn't act upon it. Instead, he merely looked at the redness that spread from his knuckles to his bicep, a faraway look in his eyes. "This started the day I woke up..."

"That's right," Grimoire encouraged gently. "The day this all started. There was something here before, and its absence has been nagging at you this entire time, fighting against your will to ignore it. A puzzle you couldn't solve. An itch you couldn't scratch."

Vincent's jaw worked as if to speak, but it took a moment before the words finally formed themselves. "The scars. The treatments they used to heal me got rid of them."

Grimoire hummed softly in acknowledgment. "A handy explanation, yes. But even then, you couldn't bring yourself to believe that such damage that had been inflicted upon you could have been wiped away so easily without a trace due to some miracle cure, could you?" 

The more Grimoire spoke, the more his words unveiled a grim realization that weighed down upon Vincent as if made of stone. Vincent thought back to the battle and the events that led up to it. He remembered Deepground, Wiess, and recovering the stolen protomateria. He remembered hurtling toward Omega as it had begun its ascension into the sky to leave the planet. Lastly, he could remember pummeling through its corporeal shell to shred it from the inside and-

"I think that's enough," spoke a voice at his side. The reminiscing came to an abrupt halt as Cid suddenly appeared at his side, an arm protectively wrapping around the gunman and holding him close. "Yer scarin' him," Cid said. "Ya need to go. Ya don't belong here," the pilot said to Grimoire.

Grimoire sighed with dismay and looked to his son. "Please, Vincent. I know this is not something easy to accept, but I can't leave you here," he pleaded in a near whisper. "Don't lock me out again."

Vincent's eyes were upon Cid as he tried to think of how the other had appeared so suddenly without his noticing. He shook his head, refraining from accepting the conclusion he did not want to believe. "I'm not doing anything," his voice cracked.

"You are. Unintentionally, but you are. You're summoning in your shields right now." Grimoire smiled sadly. "It's not entirely your fault. It's a difficult task fighting between wanting to know the truth and wanting to avoid it at all costs. It makes this process so much more confusing." Grimoire loosened his hold on Vincent and backed away from him and the blonde. The man smiled, albeit a sad one. "I just couldn't bear to leave you here. Nonetheless, the choice is yours to make." Grimoire stepped away from the couple and over to the balcony doors at the far side of the room and gazed out into the darkness. "You may come with me if you choose, or you can go out there," he said, motioning to the opposite side of the room to the door of the apartment.

Cid wrapped his other arm around Vincent and held him closer while Vincent's eyes began to burn with emotion that he didn't quite understand.

Grimoire's wan smile remained as if accepting that was Vincent's answer. "Or... if it is what you truly desire, you can stay here. It's your choice."

Vincent shook his head, fighting the confusion in his head. He looked out the balcony doors, suddenly realizing the lights of the city were no longer visible. He couldn't help but wonder why he couldn't see them, but the question faded away when Cid reached up and took his face in his hands, giving him a lingering kiss that he often did when he was feeling distressed. Cid broke the kiss and looked into Vincent's eyes. "Ya don't gotta go anywhere. Ya got me." 

"You're not real," Vincent spoke the unwanted realization aloud as he looked into Cid's blue eyes. 

A silence followed as Cid stared at him for some time, the man's knuckles brushing along his cheek, another thing that Cid would do when he had been troubled. "I'm here, ain't I? Ain't that real enough?"

He looked into Cid's blue eyes, feeling a sense of dread and despair fall over him as he spoke the singular word in a broken voice. "No..."

Vincent allowed his mind to wander back through the last weeks and examine the minor details that now stuck out like sore thumbs. Though he had believed something strange was afoot upon occasion, he hadn't realized the full spectrum of things that seemed out of place. Now the jumbled pieces to the puzzle were beginning to fall into place, and the picture was clear as day. Awakening in the hospital unscathed. Cid's constant reassuring presence and uncanny ability to ease the slightest of worries he had. Reeve finding the perfect apartment for him and Tseng's unquestioning willingness to put him on the retiree payroll. His sudden ability to sleep through the night without a single nightmare. Now they seemed like nothing more than gaps of time that his mind did not bother to fill with memories, which made even more sense now. The more Vincent thought about it, the more examples continued to come to mind. The sheer obviousness of it all almost spurred Vincent to laugh. 

"Sure I am," dismissed Cid. "Ya don't have ta go. There's nothin' out there that ya can't have here. We can _stay_ here. Do whatever ya want. I'll do my best ta make ya happy," Cid spoke in a soothing tone that always seemed to ease his worries so quickly. 

Now Vincent understood why it had worked so well before, and why it's effectiveness was now fading. With the facade and its safety nets fading away, the grim reality was growing more apparent. "I know. I want all of that, Cid. I do," Vincent spoke, his tone regretful as he looked into Cid's eyes. "But as my father once told me... I'm too curious for my own good." Vincent turned to look over his shoulder to his father of whom still waited by the glass doors, the darkness outside no longer present but instead was replaced by a sea of green and white. "I was happy," he said to him.

"I do not doubt that you were," Grimoire spoke quietly.

"So... all the things I've seen here, it's all just been a product of my imagination?"

Grimoire nodded subtly in confirmation. "Correct. From what I experienced, it is a mixture of events you wish to happen or could imagine happening. Every thought, experience, location, hope and dream that ever circulated through your mind helps build this place. Luckily for you, your sense of paranoia and airing on the side of caution was of benefit to you in this scenario. You left yourself bread crumb trails to remind yourself that something was not quite right." 

Vincent looked to his rash-afflicted skin. "I suppose that makes sense." He wondered if this was the reason for his other mystery symptoms. Shaking his head, Vincent found himself trying to make sense of other scenarios. "So if this place is meant to be... a place of comfort, I suppose you can say, why would I imagine things that would sow doubt?"

"For the reason I just mentioned," Grimoire said. "You had a knack for examining a situation to its final detail as if trying to find something wrong with it. Why?"

"I was just thinking of a recent conversation I had," Vincent replied. "Reeve was trying to convince me that my worries were unfounded. If this place is one of my own creation, then why would I imagine him saying that just to discourage myself?"

"To protect yourself, I would assume," Grimoire proposed. "Not to mention, it's a natural reaction for most people. Haven't you ever told yourself that a choice you made was the correct one, then later questioned yourself if it was the correct choice after all? Such thought processes always go unseen, and yet here you have a visual affirmation of that process. You questioned the reasoning behind the events taking place, and yet you feared the answer it would lead you to. Therefore you attempted to convince yourself it was nothing to be concerned about. In this case, you chose to tell yourself this through a different vessel." Grimoire gently shrugged. "Though this is just a theory."

Vincent nodded at his father's reasoning. When it came to logic and theories, Vincent rarely questioned his father's conclusions, and he couldn't bring himself to do so now either. Then again, his mind was so muddled with thoughts, he couldn't bring himself to poke holes in the conclusion. "So does that mean you're just a figment of my imagination as well?" he asked, his eyes falling upon father. "Are you just another crumb trail for me to follow home?"

Grimoire smiled softly. "No, I'm real. Well, as real as one can be in such a place as this," Grimoire spoke, waving a hand at the room. 

"I see," Vincent replied quietly. "How did you know I was here?"

"Truth be told, I didn't know how to find you," Grimoire responded despondently. Grimoire exhaled softly and continued on to say, "I could sense that you had passed into the middle ground of the worlds, I knew I had to find you. The most difficult part was attempting to find you and break through the facade you created. That's where your friend helped me find you."

"My friend... you said that before," Vincent recalled. "Which friend?"

"She never spoke her name, she only mentioned that her 'dear friend' was in trouble, and she needed me to help since she couldn't reach you herself," Grimoire replied. "Though she did fancy her flowers, I can say that much. She has been doing her best to lead me through this place to find you."

Once again, Vincent could not believe how foolish he was for not having come to the realization earlier. Then again, he wondered if it was to blame on his mind wanting to desperately cling onto the last threads that kept him tethered to his false reality. He now questioned whether the presence of flowers in his hospital room or the ones left at his apartment had been a coincidence after all. Vincent rubbed his chest as his father spoke, the dull ache in his chest from before continuing to make itself known. "I should have known. What a fool I've proven myself to be." A second later, he spoke another question that arose within his mind. "How long... how long have I been like this? Not in here, but... out there."

"I'm sorry I cannot answer that for you," Grimoire admitted. "Time does not act the same way here as it does there, and it's a concept that you grow accustomed to existing without once having left the old life behind." Grimoire looked his son over and added, "But judging by what you are feeling now, I can assume it has been long enough."

Vincent wished the answer brought him some relief. Instead, it left him with a feeling of dread as he thought of the possible aftermath of the battle and whether or not he had failed to stop Omega from carrying out its task. He wondered if this was why he had ended up in this place rather than having rejoined the lifestream. "Tell me, what happened of Gaia since I've been here? Is there even a planet to return to?"

"Unless something happened during my attempt to free you from this place, yes, there is still a place for you to return to," Grimoire replied. "Why do you ask?"

"It's a long story." No sooner had the words left his mouth, Vincent felt a sharp stab of pain shoot through his chest and spread throughout his body. He gasped and jolted at the harsh sensation. His mind raised the question of what had caused it when his attention was drawn to glowing white, glowing specks appearing on the back of his hands. "What's happening?" Vincent asked, fear filling his voice.

Grimoire frowned worriedly. "I believe your time here is almost finished."

Vincent didn't know what his father meant by the statement, but it worried him none the less. Thin and glowing thread-like tendrils started drifting from the pinholes and disappearing into the air. Vincent loosely closed his fists and asked, "If I leave with you... that's it, isn't it?"

"For this place and the other? Yes. It will be."

Vincent nodded in understanding. "But if I go out there..." he said as he looked to the door of the apartment.

"Then this is where we part ways. For now." Grimoire watched his son, his brows furrowed gently with ambivalence. "Is that what you want? To go back there after everything you have endured?"

Another thrum in Vincent's chest sent a nauseating wave through him that was almost enough to make him waver where he stood. "Once upon a time, I would have said no. No questions asked..." Vincent looked to Cid, the man's form having reverted to a stoic and almost robotic stance as they stood there, Cid's hands still holding his shoulders. "But now... I'm not so sure."

"If that's what you wish." Grimoire looked around the room as the lights flickered within it. "This place isn't safe anymore. I need to leave. And so do you. Before the choice is made for you." He opened the doors and gave the other a gentle smile. "I will see you again, my son. When the time is right," he spoke before disappearing into a sea of green.

Vincent watched his father disappear through the open doors, staring at the opening for an unknown amount of time. "Thank you, dad." The words left him in the form of a whisper. He exhaled softly and looked away from the door to the interior of the apartment. Cid was no longer present in the room, and the once furnished apartment was nothing but a bare shell of one that had yet to be lived in. No pictures on the wall. No coffee table littered with Cid's newspapers. No empty glasses from the previous night's drinks sitting on the counter that would have to be cleaned come morning. Even the broken glass on the floor was no longer. A room cloaked in shades of grey, the only thing remaining being himself and the two doors he had to choose between.

His eyes settled upon the door of the apartment. Vincent slowly ventured toward it and lifted his hand to place upon its surface, and as he pressed his hand against it, he felt yet another jolt of electricity shoot through his body that almost dropped him to his knees. He took a breath as if doing such a thing would help. He lifted his left hand and placed it on the door to steady himself, noticing the rash was turning darker in colour and began to take on the look of the scars he remembered all too well from before. Vincent swallowed in response to the lump that developed in his throat, yet it did nothing to ease the growing tension. He opened the door and stepped out into the hallway and checked both directions. To his left, it was a never-ending expanse of a hallway with doors leading to other rooms, and to his right at the end of the hall was a large, steel, fire escape door with the word "exit" flickering in red above it. 'How convenient,' he thought to himself as he walked toward the singular colourful spot remaining in the monochromatic world. 

Another jolt of energy rippled through his chest just as he approached the door with enough force that it caused him to collapse against it. Vincent closed his eyes and rest his forehead against the door while gripping the handle of it to keep himself upright. A part of him felt foolish and told him to run for the door that his father had left through, and yet it felt as though something on the other side of the door he leaned against was calling to him, summoning him back to the place that he called home. "Maybe Hojo was right. I truly am a sucker for punishment." With those final words leaving him, he used what might he had to shove the door open, the briefest hint of fragrant flowers tickling his senses before he was engulfed in the burning light that greeted him from the other side.

No longer was he blinded by light, but instead shrouded in darkness. The pain was immediate, and it was at that moment he felt he had made a terrible mistake. The sounds that pierced his ears were near-deafening, and the pressure in his chest felt as though a boulder had been dropped on him and was crushing the life out of him. Every breath was one filled with agony, and try as he might he couldn't hold his breath to avoid the pain. Instead, he could feel a steady amount of air filling his lungs regardless of any effort on his behalf. The copper taste in his mouth was enough to make him nauseous, the memories of tasting his own blood in his mouth seeming all too fresh in his mind yet from the days he had been subjected to Hojo's experiments.

"We've got him," said a voice to his left, one that Vincent couldn't place within his memory.

Over the cacophony of noises, Vincent heard another speak in a rather frantic tone. "Are you sure?" He wasn't entirely sure as his focus was being overridden by the pain, but he was almost positive it was Yuffie's voice.

"Pulse is weak but steady for the moment," the voice from seconds prior spoke. Along with it, he heard others giving out instructions about administering a medication that's name was too complicated for him to understand, and another was calling for a stretcher. "Is the helicopter ready?"

"It's ready when you are. Just get him to the hospital as quick as you can," spoke a man's voice that Vincent immediately recognized as Reeve's. 

"Vince?! Vince, open yer eyes," cut a distraught voice through all the rest as it hovered above him.

"Cid, we need to go and let them do their work," Reeve spoke, his tone sounding no less distraught than Cid. "He most likely can't hear you." 

"Ya don't know fer sure!" the familiar voice snapped once more. "Vince, _please!_ If you can hear me, just _try_. _Try_ an' open yer eyes!"

And try, he did. Vincent didn't think it would take so much effort to attempt opening his eyes of all things, but now the effort felt as though he was trying to move a mountain by hand. Once he did, its reward was immediate in both the form of a blessing and a punishment. His vision was blurred, and it burned to keep them open. It felt as though dozens of needles were suddenly piercing deep into his eyes, and yet it was worth it to see the familiar face that had been there comforting him through his time in another world.

A wide smile of relief split across Cid's soot-smudged face, and tears fell from his eyes and onto Vincent's face as he looked down at gunman from where he knelt behind his head. "That's my boy! You keep fightin' in there, ya hear? Don't go lettin' any grim reapers try and take ya away, alright?" the blonde spoke loudly over the sound of a helicopter settling down not far from them. Cid brushed his thumbs along Vincent's cheeks as he gingerly held his head still as a brace was being placed around Vincent's neck. "We're gonna be right here with ya, okay?"

Vincent wished he could tell him how that had almost been the case, but even in trying to utter a simple "okay" to him, he found that such a task was impossible due to something within his mouth that obstructed his ability to speak. Before he could try and figure out what it was, his world faded to darkness, and the silence followed once again.


	11. Chapter 11

The next time Vincent opened his eyes, it was to the view of a distorted room cloaked in shades of amber and other vibrant colours firing along the edges of his vision. Such a sight would have ordinarily triggered an onset of panic, and yet this reaction was being dulled by something that Vincent could not comprehend. He could recall events where he felt a similar sensation, when he had been nothing more than a victim of Hojo's twisted imagination, and sedation was used to keep him cooperative. As Vincent tried to decipher what was happening and why he was feeling the way he was, someone appeared in front of him. "Hey there," they spoke, or at least that is what he believed to have heard. Everything sounded warped and muffled as though he was floating beneath water. "You're alright. You're safe." Vincent wished his vision cleared enough to properly see the person before him, but for as many times as he felt he blinked, it did nothing to straighten out how the room and everything within it shifted as though it were made of melting plastic. He could have sworn the person talking to him was Tifa, but before he could think more on it, the crushing fatigue took hold of him once again and darkness claimed him once more.

When he regained consciousness again, not only was his vision clearer but his mind as well. Upon awakening, Yuffie was at his side along with a few doctors. This time panic set in when viewing the room and the vast amount of equipment surrounding him and the bed that he was confined to. When he realized he could not move, coupled with the added realization tubes sprouting from his mouth were providing air for him, panic started to flood his system. It didn't last long as a sedative was quickly administered into his system. Again, he found himself recalling memories of Hojo's lab and the similar effect such medications had on him. The sensation was hardly forgettable. After the drugs calmed him, Yuffie and the doctors proceeded to explain what had happened while he had been sleeping. To be told that he had been in a coma for nearly three weeks was no less than shocking. As the doctors started going down the list of procedures that had been done to heal Vincent's numerous injuries, he felt himself losing focus amidst the dump of information. It was then that Vincent became rather thankful for whatever sedative he had been given to help cushion the blow of the information shared.

After the doctors went over the information, most of which became lost to Vincent in an instant, they looked him over and left the room to allow Vincent to get some rest, and they advised Yuffie to do the same. "I'll leave in a bit," she told the staff before they departed. After the door closed, she looked back to Vincent and gave him a wink. "Don't worry. I won't leave you here alone," she told him. "I'm not that stupid. I'll stay here until one of the others comes. Until then, I'll keep quiet. Promise."

Vincent wished he could have voiced his gratitude, but the ventilator prevented him from doing so.

Yuffie smiled at him. "I'm glad to have you back," she spoke softly. "We waited so long-" She stopped and shook her head. "Nevermind. It's not important. You get some rest, okay? I'll be right here keeping an eye on you."

Once upon a time, Vincent would have felt a sense of mild dread to hear such a statement from the young ninja. Now? He couldn't have been more grateful. Taking refuge in the knowledge his friend would be keeping an eye on him, Vincent closed his eyes and followed Yuffie's suggestion to rest.

Where the days had seemed to crawl for the others as they had waited for Vincent to awaken, it was now Vincent's turn to feel like time was passing at a snail's pace now that he was conscious. Due to the paralysis that had taken his body prisoner, as well as the ventilator being left in place as a precautionary measure until he gained more strength, Vincent's ability to communicate was nearly completely eliminated. This left the gunman with no other choice but to resort to the method of blinking, once for 'yes' and twice for 'no' to answer questions asked of him. It made relaying information a dreadfully long process at times. He told himself that it could be worse, but this did little to ease the frustration during some moments, especially when the doctors had lists of questions that needed answering. It made him appreciate the visits from his friends even more as they didn't ask questions but merely spoke and gave him something else to listen to rather than his own thoughts and the incessant beeping of machines around him.

Tifa and Yuffie would often come together in the morning and share noteworthy stories after a night of work at the bar. At noon, on most days, Cloud would stop in and speak to him as well, though his visits never lasted terribly long. Cloud's delivery service was kept relatively busy after the incident, therefore leaving him little time to spare during the day for visits. In the afternoon, usually around four, Barrett would arrive with Marlene in tow after having picked her up from school. Sometimes Denzel would accompany them as well if he didn't have after-school obligations to attend to. The burly man would share a few tidbits of information that he collected throughout the day before letting Marlene read Vincent stories from books she had to read for school. Vincent almost enjoyed this visit the most as he enjoyed simply watching the young girl sitting on her father's lap and read from the pages before her, Barrett only speaking up to help with words that would cause Marlene's brows to knit in confusion. Reeve also made a point of visiting him when possible, though his visits were nearly as short as Cloud's, and for the same reason. The man looked tired, but Reeve never made mention of it and instead focused on offering Vincent his moral support and checking with the medical staff to ensure that they were doing all they could to help with Vincent's recovery.

As evening came, Vincent found himself watching the clock, wondering if tonight would be the night he could stay awake long enough to see Cid. He had to admit that out of everyone that had come to see him, he was surprised Cid was not one of the first. Granted, he understood that with all that had taken place, it was expected everyone was busy. Vincent knew planning a time to visit amidst a busy schedule could prove to be difficult at times, but it troubled him nonetheless at the lack of Cid's presence. As grateful as Vincent was to have the daily company of the others, Cid's absence left a noticeable hole in each of his days, and it felt even more so after having a pictured a life where Cid had been a very integral part of it. It left Vincent to only ponder reasons for the absence, and thinking on such things didn't do his mind any good. It made him worry if something had happened to the pilot that the others had not been willing to share, but Vincent only hoped this was merely the construct of a bored and concerned mind at work.

Before long, he was caught in a hypnotic trance set on by watching the second hand make yet another rotation around the clock. The burning of his drying eyes went unnoticed. As his fatigue started to take over, a momentary spike of adrenaline stirred him enough as he heard the sound of footsteps in the hallway. His eyes were drawn to the open door as a buzzing feeling of hope vibrated in his chest. It had been something he found himself doing more and more as he hoped to see Cid walk in through the door. While he was met with disappointment that it was not Cid entering his room, it was nonetheless a pleasure to see Reeve once again.

"Hello, Vincent," Reeve spoke, his usual soft smile in place despite the fatigue very evident on his face. He admired Reeve in that capacity, that even through tough times, the man always found the ability to put a smile on his face for the sake of others. Reeve took a seat in the chair stationed by the bed. "The doctors told me they are pleased with the progress of your recovery. I am sure you are happy about this as well. Hopefully this means you will soon be rid of some of these things," he said with a glance to the machines around Vincent's bed. "I know you are possibly tired of answering such questions, but are you feeling a great amount of pain?"

Vincent blinked twice.

"Good. I'm glad."

As Reeve spoke of his day's endeavours, Vincent's attention began to fade and instead he found himself looking at the clock on the wall and watching the seconds tick by, his thoughts elsewhere.

"Vincent?" Reeve spoke up, having noticed the far-away look in Vincent's eyes.

The uttering of his name pulled him back to reality, and his attention returned to the bearded man. He wished he could have apologized for unintentionally ignoring him. While it had been explained to him that the medication could do that to him, it did nothing to ease the guilt of having it happen so often.

"Is something wrong?" Reeve asked.

Like many other moments, this was a time Vincent wished he was able to fully express himself. Physically there was nothing worth alerting him of, and yet he found himself answering 'yes' due to the thoughts on his mind.

Reeve straightened in his seat, worry immediately arising in his eyes. "Oh, what is- do you need me to get the doctor?"

If he had the ability to so, Vincent would have sighed. He answered with two blinks and found himself looking at the clock again before closing his eyes.

Reeve exhaled, feeling equally lost concerning how to better communicate with the other and find out what was wrong. "I'm sorry, Vincent. I wish I had a better way of... wait. Wait, I think I have an idea."

Vincent opened his eyes to see Reeve quickly fluttering about the room, looking for something. When he didn't find whatever it was he was looking for, Reeve said, "I'll be right back," and hastily left the room. Vincent frowned as he kept watch of the door, waiting for Reeve's return.

A few minutes had passed before the commissioner returned, a look of hope in his eyes and a pen and papers in hand. "Perhaps this will work," Reeve said as he pulled the overbed table in front of Vincent. He set the papers down on the table - one small stack of blank ones, the other a paper with the alphabet written on it. "I'll go through the letters one by one and write down the letters you choose. This way you can spell out what you want to say rather than us having to guess what's on your mind. I know this won't exactly be easy, but it's something."

Vincent's eyes widened with excitement. If he had the patience to spell out 'I could kiss you for this', he would have, but that would come another time. Red eyes looked up to Reeve and he blinked 'yes' and waited for the man to start.

Reeve smiled, seemingly able to feel Vincent's excitement. "Alright, I'll try and go through quickly." Reeve started to read off the letters, pausing only a second between each to check for Vincent's answer. As Reeve reached "c", Vincent blinked in confirmation and Reeve wrote the letter down on one of the available blank papers and returned to the start of the alphabet once more. Again they made their way through the letters and Vincent waited for Reeve to get to the letter "i" before blinking once again. Vincent couldn't have been more thankful at that moment for Cid's short and easy name. Had it have been Reeve's name or someone else's like Yuffie's, he was sure his eyes would have dried and shriveled in his skull by the time Reeve got to them.

As Reeve reached "d", Vincent blinked again and looked to Reeve and waited for his response.

"D. Alright. A. B. C..." It was then that Reeve noticed Vincent was not looking away nor seeming to pay attention to picking anything else. "What is it?" He looked to the papers, frowning and evidently confused as he had expected something more complex. "C, i, d... Cid?"

If Vincent could have yelled acknowledgement, he would have, but a single blink had to suffice in this instance.

Realization dawned on Reeve's face. "Oh... you haven't seen him yet?" As Vincent blinked twice, Reeve nodded and slowly recapped the pen. "I'm sorry, Vincent. I had not thought to ask that before now. Truth be told, I have not seen much of him myself lately either. He has been part of the recovery and clean-up crew in Midgar. It's taken up a lot of his time, especially as work during the night is dangerous." Reeve paused before adding, "He is fairing well, if that is what you were concerned about. He is just busy, like the rest of us."

Vincent blinked 'yes' in response so Reeve didn't feel the need to explain further. Vincent was grateful to know that Cid was alright, but the answer did little to cure the ache he felt in his chest.

"You miss him," Reeve spoke after a few moments of silence.

Vincent was nearly surprised by how quickly his eyes began to burn as Reeve vocalized the words that had been repeating in his mind for so long. Whether Reeve's statement was nothing more than an observation verbalized aloud or a query he sought an answer for, Vincent didn't know, but he answered regardless. Red eyes looked to Reeve, and he offered a single blink in response. Vincent wished he could have smiled for the other to put his mind at ease, or have the ability to do something of the sort. Before he could think any more on it, he heard the beep of the heart rate monitor beside him go off. Annoyed, Vincent closed his eyes and deferred his thoughts to something that would lower his heartrate rather than raise it. The last thing he needed was the cavalry of health professionals diving into the room to give him a head to toe inspection due to the fact his heart was working harder than usual.

Reeve nodded, his expression solemn. "I'll give him a call and tell him you were asking for him. Perhaps we can find a way to get him here during a time that you are awake." Reeve extended a hand to place on Vincent's shoulder. "I would stay and visit longer, but I am afraid I should be going. I have a few matters to tend to that I have been neglecting. But I will do my best to come and see you once again very soon." He offered Vincent a soft smile and tucked the blankets around his chest. "In the meantime, you get some rest."

'There's not much else I can do,' Vincent thought to himself, but blinked to the other in the response of 'yes' before closing them and allowing himself to succumb to the effects of the medication.

~~**~~**~~**~~**~~**~~**~~**~~**~~**~~**~~**~~**~~**~~**~~**~~

The next time Vincent opened his eyes, it was thanks to the sound of an IV machine beeping at his bedside. It was rare that the sounds of the machines roused him from his slumber, but when it did, it was usually at an ungodly hour of the morning. Crimson eyes sluggishly opened and gazed at the clock once again. He was right - it was an ungodly time of the morning. Not that such things mattered as of late, but it was the principle of being awoken at such a time that riled him enough. He only hoped it did not take long for one of the on-duty staff to come and tend to the machine.

He grumbled to himself, internally of course, and let his head roll to the side to see which of the machines he would be glaring at until it was silenced, when the sight of someone at his bedside instead caught his attention. Cid's head was resting upon his folded arms at his side, his quiet snoring muffled even more by the blankets. For the briefest of moments, Vincent had forgotten about the ventilator and attempted to speak, but the pain reminded him speaking wasn't an option at his point. Vincent looked to his scarred hand that Cid held within one of his own, and he scowled at his inability to do something so simple as to twitch and let his friend know he was awake. His eyes closed in bitter frustration and fought the burn that took place within them. That was when a familiar smell tickled his senses, the scent of fragrant flowers in bloom. Vincent's eyes snapped open but not quick enough to catch the full vision of the spectre that had placed a hand over his and Cid's before it faded away. He looked at his hand and wondered for a moment if he had imagined it, and yet a peculiar tingling within his hand proved to him he had not. He stared at their linked hands for the briefest of moments before mentally commanding his hand to move in hopes that his muscles would listen.

Within Cid's hand, fingers flexed and weakly squeezed around Cid's.  
Vincent's eyes stung once more, but this time out of joy for the simple pleasure of being able to move the appendages. _'Thank you, Aerith,'_ he voiced within his mind, thankful for the benevolent aid offered by their old friend. Vincent squeezed again, doing his absolute best to squeeze Cid's hand as much as he possibly could.

While Vincent felt as though he was using enough strength to crush a rock within his hand, the effort did not translate enough force into his grip to awaken Cid. At least not immediately. Minutes passed, and Vincent's efforts to try and hold Cid's hand tighter had slowly begun to pay off. Blonde brows knit in his sleep, the action coupled with a quiet grunt as the subtle movements and pressure from Vincent's touch began to rouse the pilot. Blue eyes started to crack open, and another tired grumble left the pilot as he raised his head from his crossed arms. Cid blinked groggily as he looked upon his and Vincent's hands as if confused.

Vincent was not surprised that it took Cid a moment to realize what had awoken him. Vincent gripped Cid's fingers again as Cid stared at their linked hands, the action then prompting Cid's gaze to trail up Vincent's arm and lock with his own.

Seeing Vincent not only awake but holding Cid's hand seemed to send a dose of adrenaline pumping through the pilot's veins as he snapped to attention. Cid hastily rubbed his eyes with his free hand as he straightened himself in his seat. "Hey. How're ya feelin'?" he asked, fatigue lacing his voice. He looked to Vincent's hand and carefully lifted it between them, gently encapsulating within his own. "Can ya feel this?"

Vincent wished he could have smiled, wished he could have spoken with his own voice, and yet in the current moment, he couldn't find it in himself to be angry at either of these things. Instead, he felt the swell of joy in his chest and answered Cid with a noticeable single blink of his glimmering eyes to tell him 'yes'.

Cid smiled as he witnessed the blink, and the same glimmer reaching his own sky-blue eyes. A joyous laugh bubbled out of the pilot a moment before going silent amidst a flurry of emotion that seemed to overcome him. Vincent felt tears of happiness gather and roll down his cheeks as Cid pressed their linked hands against his forehead and took a moment to collect himself. Vincent wished he could sit up and hug the other, but he knew it would happen in due time. For now, he was happy to have achieved what little he had. It may have only been a small step on the long road to recovery, but it was a step in the right direction, nonetheless.

Once Cid seemed to regain his bearings, he took a breath and looked to Vincent once more, a bright smile stretching across his face, emotions lingering along the edges of his eyes in the form of tears. "I missed ya, Vince. I promise I'll be here as long as ya need me, okay?" he said.

'I missed you too,' Vincent thought. Cid raised a bandaged hand to comb back the few strands of hair, and Vincent couldn't help but lean into the touch, the brief sensation soothing the ache that had been long lingering in his heart.

Cid spoke again a second later. "If ya want me here, that is."

Vincent's eyes opened immediately. 'If only you knew how much I want you here,' he thought to himself as he blinked 'yes' for Cid.

The answer seemed to bring Cid relief as he smiled and continued to brush his fingers through Vincent's long hair. "Good. I'll try not ta drive ya up the wall."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Another week passed from that day, and with each passing day, more progress was made. To Vincent's glee, the ventilation tube was removed, and the feeling continued to return his arms and upper body. With enough focus, he was able to move his hands and arms, but the rest of his mobility remained at a standstill. He had a long way to go, but it was a start. Vincent was thankful that his healing abilities did not just stem from Chaos, but also from the other three that resided within his body, and possibly the other enhancements granted to him from the experiments. If not for this, Vincent feared just how much longer his healing process would have been stalled or if he would have even survived the fall from the sky as he had.

Currently, Vincent was resting with his hands at his sides under the warm blankets covering him. Tifa sat in a chair beside him and read stories from the newspaper, something she often did for him to keep him updated on current events. Vincent had been resting his eyes when he heard the familiar thumping of work boots trodding down the hallway prompted them to open. He looked to the door just in time to see Cid enter the room in his usual casual attire and his thermos of tea that he carried with him everywhere he went.

"Hey there, sunshine," Cid said with a smirk and a wink. Cid grabbed a chair from the side of the room to pull up to the bed. "Tifa puttin' ya to sleep with the daily news?"

"No, not quite," Vincent said with a soft smile and closed his eyes.

"You make it sound like it's such a bad thing," Tifa said to the pilot, peeking over the edge of the newspaper.

"Nah, it ain't. It's just borin'," he teased. Cid set his thermos on the bedside table as he dropped down into his seat. "Did ya get to the article where ShinRa's donatin' his brain ta science?"

Tifa dropped the newspaper into her lap, a flat expression greeting Cid. "Cid, there's no such article in here."

"Yeah, well, there should be." He looked to the bed as heard Vincent chuckle. Cid couldn't help but smile with pride as he saw the trace of a smirk present on Vincent's face. "See, at least I can make him laugh."

Tifa snorted, her brown eyes rolling in subtle amusement as she folded up the newspaper. "I suppose I should just leave then two be then since I'm _that_ dull." She chuckled and set the paper down in the chair after she stood, then turned and leaned down to kiss Vincent's forehead. "I'll come by after work. You get some rest, okay?"

"I'll see if I can fit it into my schedule," Vincent answered in his hoarse voice. He knew his voice sounded gruff before, but thanks to the ventilation tubes having impeded his ability to speak up until the last few days, his voice was even more coarse than before. "Thank you, Tifa."

"You're welcome. Be good. " She stood and walked around to the other side of the bed just so she could ruffle Cid's hair. "That goes for you too."

"Spoilsport," Cid groused as he straightened out his hair. He looked over his shoulder and watched the woman leave then looked to Vincent, giving him a smile. "How are ya feelin' today?"

"About the same as yesterday," Vincent answered. "Though today, I feel as though I've only been run over by _four_ packing machines rather than five, so I suppose that's an improvement."

Cid snorted weakly. "I guess that's one way o' lookin' at it. How about up here?" he asked as he tapped his temple with his index finger. "Hearin' anything from the quartet lately?"

"No, I haven't. I briefly thought I heard Galian complaining that he wanted to go for a run, but that could have been the meds talking."

Cid looked amused at the reply. "Could be. I was figurin' that you'd be hearin' somethin' from Chaos by now."

"I thought I so too, but it hasn't been the case so far. So nothing new there." A part of Vincent doubted this would change. He could sense a loss within himself, a void that Chaos' being resided within. Whether this meant Chaos had returned to the planet along with Omega or if he was in a dormant state, Vincent did not know, but he knew that time would tell. For now, he didn't feel the need to think about it. "But, I did learn a new trick overnight," he said and motioned downward on the bed with a glance toward his feet to where he began to slowly wriggle his toes.

A perplexed expression came over Cid's face, and he followed the other's gaze. Cid looked at the shifting blankets and lifted a hand to pull back the covers just enough to see the toes slowly moving. Cid smiled widely. "Well, well, look at that. Breakin' healin' records all around, ain't ya?" He moved to gingerly squeeze one of Vincent's large toes and asked, "You can feel that?"

"I can," Vincent confirmed before he stopped moving them. "I thought I imagined it at first, but apparently not." He smiled as he looked to Cid. "I felt an itch. Never thought I would be so relieved to feel something so annoying."

"I bet," Cid said with a laugh. "Damn, that's good. We'll have ya on the dance floor in no time," Cid said and covered Vincent's feet again. "I call the first dance," he said with a wink and smirk.

Vincent smiled, knowing Cid was simply trying to attempt humour, but he couldn't help but hope there was some seriousness to it. "It's all yours if you want it," Vincent spoke.

Cid chuckled gently and waved a hand. "Nah, it's fine. I know ya don't like bein' in the center of attention like that or doin' that sort o' thing. I was just teasin'."

"I wasn't teasing _you_ ," Vincent spoke seriously after a moment. Vincent took a breath to fight off the anxiety that was presenting itself in its typical fashion in the form of tension in his chest. Surprisingly the momentary pause and taking a deep breath was enough to rid the sensation quickly. "I think it's time I start pushing past things that make me uncomfortable. I spent enough time locked away in the past, letting my fears rule me and keep me from moving on to better things. So... even if something doesn't work out the way I hope for it to... I have to keep moving on. Some steps are just going to be smaller than others. Like dancing in front of others." He met Cid's gaze, allowing himself to get lost in the sea of blue for a brief moment. "So, the first dance belongs to you. If you want it."

Cid stared in silence for a few moments and soon let out a huff of amusement mingled with surprise. "Well... _sure._ Hell, I wouldn't mind. Been a long time since I danced, though, so I gotta warn ya that I may end up stompin' on them pretty toes o' yers."

"I'll be sure to wear steel-toed boots," Vincent said with a smile. At Cid's laugh, Vincent smiled spread a bit more. He silently watched Cid for what may have been an uncomfortable amount of time. Realizing this, he took a breath and worked to try and worm his bandaged hand out from under the blanket.

Cid noticed the subtle movement and sat up in his seat. "Don't go overworkin' those limbs o' yers," Cid said as he pulled back the blanket. "I know yer a tough one, but ya gotta take it easy too. Like ya said - small steps."

As Cid lifted the blankets enough for him to get his hand out, Vincent withdrew his hand and waited long enough for Cid to tuck the blankets back to his side before catching Cid's hand with his own and holding it within his grasp. He could only hope the action was not rejected.

Thankfully Cid's reaction consisted of nothing more than surprise mixed with amusement as he held the fingers that curled into his palm. "Heh. Never pictured you'd be one ta wanna hold hands with me. Or anyone fer that matter. No offense," he added afterward as he realized before he even said it that it would have come across as rude to the other.

"There's no need for an apology. It was no secret that I was not one who enjoyed physical contact before," Vincent stated, not phased by the comment. "I guess I've changed a bit."

"I'd say so," Cid agreed and held the hand between his. "And what brought on this change?"

Vincent watched the other for a moment, reflecting on the memories he had of events that never truly took place. As much as he wanted to speak of what he had experienced, he didn't feel now was the time to bring it up. "I'll tell you one of these days. I promise."

Cid seemed intrigued but let the subject drop with a nod of his head. "I'll hold ya to it," was all he said in response before he turned his attention to the hand he held between his own.

Vincent watched the other closely as a far-away look developed in the pilot's blue eyes. He looked to their hands as Cid ran his calloused fingers along his skin as if without thought. Vincent tipped his head and squeezed Cid's hand within his own, the action drawing Cid away from his thoughts with a twitch. "What's on your mind?"

"Ah, nothin'," Cid dismissed. "Just spacin' out again."

"You know you can only get away with that excuse so many times." It had not happened often, but often enough that it had Vincent concerned when he noticed it. While it was not to see Cid become lost in his own thoughts at the wheel of his airship or his stool at the bar, there was something about the look in his eyes that conveyed Cid's thoughts were not occupying the best of places. "What's on your mind?" he asked again.

Cid seemed reluctant to answer Vincent at first, but eventually, he offered up a short answer of, "Just thinkin' of that day again, everythin' that happened and all that."

Vincent quietly observed Cid, not missing the haunted look that lingered in the blue eyes or the dejected energy that seemed to bleed from every fibre of Cid's being at that particular moment. The others had told him what had happened the day they had recovered him from the battlefield but nothing in great detail, nor had Cid shared anything from his own perspective of that day. With that in mind, Vincent probed further. "What happened?"

Cid shook his head, obviously wanting to avoid the topic. "C'mon, we don't need ta be talkin' 'bout that."

"Maybe we do. If only for you to get it off your chest." Vincent waited as Cid seemed to toy with the idea for a while. When enough time has passed, Vincent pressed the matter again. "What happened, Cid?"

Sighing, Cid shook his head, seeming determined to not speak of the events. "Look, I don't wanna say anythin' that's gonna end up freakin' ya out or just upsettin' ya," Cid explained. "You know I ain't always articulate with my words. Once I get goin', I have a hard time stoppin'."

"Then so be it," Vincent responded. He squeezed Cid's hand again to drive the point across. "Cid, you know more than anyone else what I've seen and what I've experienced. Trust me when I say I want to know what's on your mind, regardless of whether you think something is too much for me to hear. It's bothering you, and I can see that. It's a look that doesn't suit you." He watched Cid silently struggle with the idea, and Vincent wondered what else he could say to get the other to open up about his thoughts. That was when he noticed Cid's shoulders sag in a display of surrender.

Cid stared at Vincent's hand as he replayed the imagery in his head. "That blast that came after Chaos and Omega collided... I ain't ever seen anything like that before," he started, his voice low and somber. "Shit, I thought I was gonna be blind and deaf after that happened. Actually thought I was fer a bit. Everythin' got so dark, and it was so damned quiet, it had me wonderin'. That's when the sky lit up, and the lifestream particles started rainin' back down. Couldn't see you, couldn't see Omega. Just a sea o' green." Cid paused long enough to shake his head. "I didn't know what ta think until I thought I saw somethin' fallin' in the distance. Now I didn't know what it was, and I tried not ta let my imagination run off with me, but dammit, I took off like a bat outta hell ta make sure that what I saw wasn't you."

Cid paused to take a breath, and Vincent gently squeezed his hand in a show of reassurance. After giving Cid a few moments to collect his thoughts, he spoke again. "What happened next?"

"We went lookin' fer ya," he spoke quietly. "Yuffie followed after me. I didn't keep track o' where the others went, I just went toward where I saw this thing fall..." Cid paused again as he lifted a hand to rub his eyes. "That's when I found ya. You were just... draped over a big ole piece o' cement like a wet rag."

If there had ever been a moment Vincent wished he could do something as simple as sit up, it was now when he saw the tears falling from Cid's eyes. For as long as he knew Cid, there had only been a few occasions he could recall where Cid was close to shedding tears and yet never once did so. To see him in such a state now broke Vincent's heart in a way he could not describe.

"I called fer Yuffie to get help" Cid continued, "and I went over to ya to see what I could do, but dammit if that wasn't the worst sight I'd ever seen. I just... I can't put it into words." Cid took a few moments to calm and collect himself before he could trust himself to speak again. "The medics showed up, got ya stretched out on a board, and started workin' on revivin' ya. And just as I was startin' to believe you weren't comin' back, that's when they got ya goin' again." Cid huffed a heavy sigh and shook his head gently, a look of guilt seeming to spread across his face. "I've had a lotta shitty moments in my life, but damn if none o' them left me feelin' gutted like that day."

As he allowed Cid the time he obviously needed to calm himself, Vincent thought back to the events he had experienced in the seam between worlds, more specifically the ones where he could have sworn he had heard Cid screaming his name. It had only happened a few times that he could recall, and yet those moments had always puzzled him as to how he had imagined them. Vincent now couldn't help but wonder if it had been Cid all along, that his voice had somehow broken through the veil of life and death and was summoning him back home. Deciding he could ponder more on this theory later, Vincent squeezed Cid's hand once again and said, "I'm sorry you went through that," Vincent spoke quietly, his voice almost inaudible. "But I made it. I survived."

"Yeah, ya did... but was that fair to ya?" Cid dared to ask, the look of guilt still present upon his face as the words left him.

The question, coupled with Cid's expression, caught him off guard, and Vincent couldn't help but inquire, "What do you mean?"

Cid looked away from Vincent, his eyes instead focussing on the blankets on the bed. "I know that fer a long time you've not really been...ya know, happy with yer life. Ya spent so much of it hidin' away or tryin' to forget it. Can't say as I blamed ya, though. Then this happened. Ya put yer life on the line fer the sake of the planet, and ya had yer body broken down in the worst possible ways... and here we brought ya back ta life, not carin' how ya might've felt about that or what quality o' life ya might have after" Cid took a breath and closed his eyes, feeling sick at hearing his admission aloud. "Pretty damned selfish thing ta do, yanno? Bringin' ya back just fer our sakes and put ya through all this hell when ya could've had peace."

Vincent couldn't deny that Cid's reasoning was entirely incorrect, and it was apparent that Cid deduced this was the case due to the guilt he was currently feeling. With this thought in mind, Vincent didn't wait too long to reply with his answer. "Look at me," he spoke gently to the pilot. Only once Cid's eyes met his own did he speak. "I know I've... I've not exactly been the happiest person to be around. I let my past hold me prisoner, and I kept a grim view of the world and my place in it." He paused long enough to take a breath as he almost felt lightheaded due to the simple task of talking. "I admit there were times I wish I was no longer a part of it all. Of course, you know this well enough. But that was then, and I can say I am not resentful by the fact that I am here today. Don't ever feel guilty for such a thing. You stole nothing from me, Cid. On the contrary, you gave me a gift that I doubt I'll ever be able to repay you for. I'm glad I'm back here, with you, and with all the others. So no more beating yourself up." Vincent squeezed Cid's hand again in an attempt to make the other look at him. "Understood?"

Cid nodded reluctantly and wiped at his eyes again. "Yeah. I got it." He heaved a heavy breath and attempted to regain his composure. "Sorry. Didn't mean fer this ta all come out."

"It's fine, Cid," said Vincent reassuringly. "It needed to come out." Vincent knew well enough that holding on to such grim thoughts could slowly destroy a person from the inside

Cid's nodded and fell silent without any thought of doing so. It wasn't until his mind supplied to him that he had not said a word for quite some time that he was brought back to the present moment. He looked to Vincent, a warm smile gracing his features. "I've told ya I'm glad ta have ya back, right?"

"You did, but I don't mind being told again," Vincent spoke softly. He closed his eyes again, the smile still present as he let himself relax.

"Tired?"

"A bit. These drugs certainly take their toll. And I'm still not used to talking this much."

"I don't doubt it. Though yer voice was starting to sound pretty rough," Cid said and gently pat the man's hand. "Why don't I head out and let ya get some rest, hu? I can come back later."

"You could stay. If you want to at least." Vincent answered. "The choice is yours."

Cid watched the other as he relaxed peacefully in the bed. He never thought he would see the day where the gunman would be so unbothered by being hooked up to and surrounded by so much medical equipment. "I can stay," he answered, unable to find it in himself to leave the other.

Vincent's smile returned. "Good. I'd hate to see you leave before I even get a sip of tea."

Cid chuckled and softly pat Vincent's hand before tucking it back under the blankets once again. "I'll pour ya some. Just let me hunt down some straws," he answered and moved to retrieve what he needed to help the other drink.


	12. Chapter 12

Even with his newfound ability to feel and move his limbs once again, the days that followed felt as though they were passing at an agonizingly slow rate from Vincent's perspective. It wasn't just the healing process that seemed to take an eternity, but also that of the therapy that followed. Vincent didn't comprehend just how challenging learning how to walk again would be, nor how many people and pieces of equipment would be required for the task. Or how painful it would be. Again he found himself being more than grateful for the painkillers that dulled the pain to a bearable level. Now, after weeks of therapy, advanced healing treatments, and a vast amount of patience, Vincent was sitting in the reclined seat of a car and being transported to his 'breaking out of jail' party as Cid had dubbed it upon one of his visits. As much as he used to hate the stagnant air of the city, Vincent welcomed it into his lungs as the breeze brushed across his face through the open window. It was a nice change from the hospital air. 

Cloud turned down the road, taking it slow as to avoid potholes that would jostle Vincent too much, or at the very least, try and ease over them. There had been some bumps Cloud tried to ease over but still drew a wince and a gasp from the gunman, but this couldn't be helped. Cloud furthered down the quiet street to the Seventh Heaven, parking out front just in front of the doors to make it a shorter walk for Vincent. "Here we are." The blonde man spoke and slipped out of the car to help the other out. He opened Vincent's door and held a hand out to him. "Here, take my hand. Try not to strain yourself."

"I'm trying not to," Vincent said as he let the seat rise to a seated position before he carefully moved to set his feet on the ground outside. With his right hand, he took hold of the one extended to him, and with his left, he picked up the cane he had been provided and used both to get to his feet. He grimaced at the aches he felt as he straightened himself fully. "I feel like an old man," Vincent said. The pause was brief before he snorted in partial amusement. "I guess I'm finally feeling what those at my age normally do."

A quiet chuckle left the shorter man as he shut the car door. "Considering the doctors didn't think you would ever walk again, I would say you're doing just fine, Vincent." Cloud monitored Vincent's feet as they walked to ensure Vincent didn't catch his toes on the sidewalk before stepping up himself. He led Vincent to the door and placed his hand upon the handle. "Ready?"

"As much as I ever will be," Vincent spoke.

The door was opened, and the two stepped in. Next came the happy cheers of their friends upon their arrival.

"Vincent!" Yuffie exclaimed as she bounded toward Vincent in her usual energetic fashion.

Vincent held up his cane as if it were one of his guns, causing the young girl to come skidding to a halt, barely an inch away from it as it lined up with her forehead. "Be warned, I've been told I am allowed to use this in self-defense if need be," he spoke in his dry humoured way and gently tapped the top of her head.

Yuffie giggled and lightly slapped the cane out of the way. "Don't worry. I wasn't about to do something to set you back all over again!" She stepped forward and gave the tall man a careful hug. "It's good to see you up and moving again, Vincent. We missed you."

"It's good to see you too," he spoke and returned the hug to the young woman. He released her and continued on to say hello to the others that had come to the small gathering.

"Glad to have you back, Vince!" Barrett said in his usual boisterous manner. "Bet you're happy to get outta that place finally."

"You have no idea. And thank you, it is good to be back." Vincent furthered on to the table and looked toward Reeve of whom was pulling out a chair for him to sit at the table. "I feel like I'm royalty," he joked weakly.

The commissioner laughed at the comment. "There is nothing wrong with being treated as such after all you have been through." Reeve motioned to the chair and held out a hand for Vincent's other arm. "Take a seat. We thought this would be more comfortable than sitting on the stools at the bar."

"Either would have worked for me," Vincent said. "You didn't have to go to this much trouble, but I do appreciate it."

"Wait!" Tifa chirped as she ran out from behind the bar, setting down some bottles on the table first, then quickly stepping over to hug the man. "It's easier to hug you when you're standing."

Vincent chuckled and hugged the woman in return. "I agree," he said, giving her a squeeze. Reeve and Tifa each held onto one of his arms as he settled into the chair. Once seated, Vincent let out a breath and set the cane across his lap. "Feels nice to be upright again. Especially without the help of all the other equipment."

"I can imagine so," Tifa agreed as she stepped to the side. "Can I get you anything to drink?"

"I suppose some soda will have to do. I'm still on the alcohol ban for another week or so until I can stop with the medications."

Tifa nodded. "I thought as much. I'll go get you some," she said and quickly wandered off to retrieve him a drink.

Vincent carefully readjusted himself in his seat as the others moved to their own spots at the table as well. His eyes performed a quick scan of the room and realized one of their group was missing. "Where's Cid?" he asked.

"He should be back soon," Reeve said and also looked in the direction of the kitchen. "He has been quite busy helping Tifa with all the preparations."

"He's here," Tifa spoke from behind the bar. She carried Vincent's drink to the table and set it down before him. "He should be out in-"

"I'm here!" Cid called out over her from the kitchen just a moment before he emerged. The pilot wiped his damp hands on his pant legs as he walked to the table. "Did'ja think I was gonna miss out on the party?"

Vincent's smile spread more as he saw the blonde, unable to stomp down the joy that spread through his chest at that moment. "Hardly," he said as he started to get up from his chair. 

"Hey, just sit," Cid said, flapping his hands fervently at Vincent. "I can bend down." The pilot laughed softly and leaned down to carefully hug the man. "It's damned good ta have ya back, pal." As he straightened up, he motioned to the clothes Vincent was wearing and asked, "How do the clothes fit?"

"Not too bad," Vincent said. "A bit on the loose side, but that's not a bad thing. It's better than having them too tight. So it's a good thing you got me the belt."

Cid grimaced with disappointment and settled his hands on his hips. "Ah, shit. Sorry 'bout that. Was hopin' I'd get close to yer size. Guess I ain't that good at guessin' sizes after all."

Vincent smiled, amused at the difference between the current moment and how it had unfolded within his 'dream.' "It's fine, Cid. Really," Vincent reassured him. "It's not as though I can't buy more clothes on my own. I'm just grateful for what I have now. So thank you, I appreciate the effort you went to on my behalf."

The grimace on Cid's face began to fade, and a smile reluctantly started to take over. "If ya say so," he replied and extended a hand to softly pat Vincent's shoulder. "I'll take ya out shoppin' when yer feelin' up ta doin' that."

"That works for me," Vincent replied. "If you can get away and do such things, however. I know you've been kept busy."

"Cid has been putting in some rather long days working with the WRO to help clean up after the disaster," Reeve confirmed as he slid into his chosen seat, allowing Cid to take the one beside Vincent. "I would say it's time he had a break."

"If ya think I can get away with it," Cid commented as he sat down in the seat left available to him. "There's still a lot to be done out there."

"We all knew this was a job that would not be finished overnight, Cid. I am sure we will be able to manage fine without you for a while. You helped immensely with the worst of the cleanup, and it's thanks to those efforts of yours that made it all go quicker. As for right now, I think Vincent needs the help more than us," Reeve said with a nod to the gunman.

Cid gently scratched the back of his neck as he mulled over Reeve's words. "I guess so," he said then looked to Vincent. "As long as ya don't mind me bein' the one ta escort ya around town."

Vincent smiled as he carefully picked up his drink from the table. "Oh, I suppose I will manage," he spoke, giving the other a wink before taking a sip.

Cid snorted at the retort and wasn't able to refrain from mirroring the smirk Vincent was trying to hide behind his glass. "I know. It's gonna be hell fer ya, ain't it?"

"So much," Vincent replied and set down the glass. "I don't know how I'll be able to stand it."

"We'll tune him in if he gets to be too much for you," Tifa commented as she set Cid's beer down in front of him. "Alright, is everyone ready to eat? If so, I'll bring the food out."

"I'm starving," Barrett proclaimed. "I have been ever since I caught a whiff of what's cookin'."

"I'll help bring out the food, Tifa," Cloud spoke up, already on his way to the kitchen.

"Me too," Yuffie said as well and bounced off to follow Cloud.

Tifa smiled as the two started toward the kitchen ahead of her. "I guess that answers that." She leaned down and pressed a kiss to the top of Vincent's head. "Let's get you some decent food for a change. You must be tired of the hospital food after all this time."

"More than you can imagine," Vincent confirmed with a hint of bitterness lacing his words. "I never knew cardboard came in so many varieties."

Not too long after, an array of food was set out on the table, and everyone dug in with zeal, even Vincent. After the extended stay at the hospital and resigned to eating rather bland meals for so long, Vincent found himself gorging on the wide selection of food as if he had not eaten since he had awoken. As much as he could gorge at least, considering how his stomach had shrunk during the last while. Vincent knew there was a chance he would be regretting the decision later, but for now, he couldn't bring himself to care.

"Would you like to have some dessert now, Vincent?" Tifa asked as she and Yuffie began to gather the dishes from the table. "We have a chocolate cake from the bakery. Cloud got some ice cream from the shop on the corner."

"Marlene and Denzel made some cookies," Barret added.

"And I pulled some favours and managed to get some Wutainese sweets," Reeve added.

Vincent let out a breath as he leaned back in his seat. His belly made a protesting noise at the thought of more food. "Though all of those sound wonderful, I may have to wait a bit before I even try. As it is, I think I overdid it."

"That's not necessarily a bad thing," Tifa replied.

"No, it's definitely not," Cid agreed. "Ya lost a fair bit o' weight layin' in that bed fer that long. It was about time ya got a good feed o' food."

"That was my thought too, hence why I ate as much as I did. Even so, my stomach can only hold so much. And right now, it's sending out warning signs not to add any more. But maybe later." He leaned back in his seat and stretched his limbs a bit to keep them from stiffening up. As for right now, I think I need to get up and move around." He listened to the music that had been playing quietly in the background since his arrival then looked to Cid. "Care for that dance now?"

Cid's expression conveyed surprise at the mention of the dance and Vincent could have sworn he saw Cid's cheeks adapt a rosy hue to them. "Uh, yeah, could do that," he said and finished off the last sip of his drink and set the bottle down on the table.

"A dance, hmm?" Tifa inquired, a small smirk attempting to tug at the corner of her lips.

"Yeah, a dance," Cid confirmed as he got out of his seat. He gave Tifa a look that dared her to make a joke of it. "I promised I'd have one with him when he got out."

Yuffie completely ignored the warning look Cid was giving and seized her moment to tease the pilot. "OoOoooh! Is that why you shaved?" Yuffie teased as she landed several pokes against Cid's ribs as she walked by him.

"Ah, shaddup," Cid said and shoved her laughing face away with a calloused hand. Yuffie merely cackled in response and continued gathering up the dishes from the table.

Tifa snapped her fingers as she looked at the blonde. "That's what looked different!" she exclaimed. "Gosh, that was bugging me."

Cid grunted and crossed his arms over his chest. "So I shaved? Big deal. I do it all the time."

"It _is_ a big deal," Yuffie said, grinning as she quickly skirted around to the opposite side of the table from him, picking up plates as she went. 

"Best watch what you say, Yuffie. He's liable never to do it again," Vincent joked as he slowly rose from his seat, using both hands to carefully push himself up.

Cid rolled his eyes at the commentary. "I don't look that bad, do I?" The question was soon forgotten as Cid watched Vincent get up, his mothering streak kicking in. "Careful," Cid spoke in a worried tone as Vincent started to rise from his seat. 

"Geez, Cid, you're gettin' to be just as worrisome as Tifa," Barret commented.

"I'd say worse," Yuffie said with a smirk.

Tifa let out an affronted huff. "I'm not that bad."

"And neither am I," Cid argued as he reached out to take hold of Vincent's left arm while Cloud took Vincent's right and helped him up. The blonde let out a strained sigh. "You sure ya wanna do this?"

Vincent snorted gently at the question. "Of course I do," Vincent said as he slowly straightened up. "I'm not that weak anymore, Cid. I'm still going to feel stiff and sore from time to time, but it doesn't mean that's an excuse to sit as much as I want. The doctors said I have to keep moving so I don't lose mobility, and dancing is moving. And I said I was going to have a dance once I got out of there. And here I am." He looked to Cid and added, "It's just going to be a very slow one."

"Just take care not to push yourself too much," Tifa warned, a worried expression on her face.

"I won't anymore than I am supposed to," he said. Vincent picked up his cane and tapped Reeve's shoulder with the handle. "I dub thee protector of my cane until I get back."

The man laughed softly in his usual jovial manner and took the item passed to him. "Consider it done, Vincent."

Vincent carefully turned and let Cid walk him to the dance floor on the other side of the room. "Alright. I'll apologize now for my lousy dancing skills you are about to witness."

"Ya just got outta the hospital, Vince. I don't expect ya to be doin' the Charleston or anythin'." 

"Mmm. I suppose instead, then I'll apologize for teasing you back there."

Cid blinked as he looked up to the other. "What, all that back there? You didn't do anything. Hell, they started it."

"Maybe, but I didn't need to make a joke either, and that wasn't fair to you," Vincent added. "You did look bothered."

Cid scoffed and waved a hand. "Nah, I'm fine. I ain't mad at ya. Just amazin' how shavin' can make some people get all goofy." Cid's lips ugged in a thin line, and he looked up once more, a brow arched in question. "Seriously, though... do I look that odd bein' shaved?"

The smile that Vincent developed also reached his eyes. "Not at all. Both are a good look on you." A part of him wished he could say more, but once again, he still didn't feel now was the time to be sharing such things, nor was he certain there would ever be a good time. 

Cid seemed pleased with the answer as the corner of his lips pulled upward. "I'll trust yer bein' honest." Cid carefully moved around the other to stand in front of him and held the other up a bit while allowing Vincent to still stand on his own. "Alright... wanna lead?"

"I think I'll let you do that. I doubt I could lead around a blind mouse at this point for as slow as I am." Vincent smiled and wrapped an arm around Cid and let him take his hand. He then leaned his cheek against the top of Cid's head and let the other direct him along the dance floor. It still made him ache to move, but he knew it wouldn't get better unless he moved more. "Besides, you can help prop me up better this way."

Cid chuckled gently and held onto the other as they slowly shifted around the dance floor. "Whatever ya want, Vince."

"Thank you, Cid."

"No problem, Vince. No problem."

Vincent was quiet as they moved around the shoe-scuffed dancefloor, though it was mostly due to Cid's efforts that had him moving about the room, all the while silently and selfishly indulging in the closeness he and Cid shared. A part of him hated himself for not having yet been honest with Cid about what happened between them within his dream world. Though he knew the events that transpired were only created by his imagination, he couldn't help but feel as though he was taking advantage of Cid and his kindness. Deep down, he knew Cid was merely being kind and helpful to him, just as he had always done for him, but the thought lingered in the back of his mind none the less. Vincent made a mental note to tell the Cid the truth behind what he had experienced at the next best opportunity he had, that way he would not feel such guilt as he did in these random moments.  
"How was that?"

"Hmm?"

"The dance." Cid snorted. "Was it that dull ya zoned out on me?"  
Vincent cleared his throat gently as he pulled back to look at the other. "No, not dull at all," he said, smiling. "I suppose I was just content enough that I got lost in the moment. I'm sorry."

Cid waved a hand. "No need to be sorry about that. How's yer legs and all that feel? Wanna sit back down and have a rest?"

Vincent took a tally of the subtle aches and pains throughout his body as he stood, deciphering the difference between the typical pains he had been feeling and what had gotten worse. A quick nod came from Vincent a moment later. "That wouldn't be a bad idea." Vincent knew he could possibly do more, but he also didn't want to push himself too far and set his healing back. Cid already seemed to be worrying about him enough as it was, and he didn't want to make that worse by being in pain.  
Cid nodded and turned to stand at Vincent's side, allowing Vincent to use his body as a brace to keep himself upright as they returned to the table. Just as Cid was getting Vincent settled into his seat, the others were bringing out the sweets and dainties that they had brought for the occasion. Vincent did allow himself to indulge in a piece of cake, as well as a few sweets that Reeve had mentioned earlier. He didn't have terribly many desserts, and yet Vincent still felt overfilled by the time he finished the desserts and with it came the fatigue.

"You look like you're ready to go to sleep," Cloud commented from where he sat.

"I feel like I look then," Vincent confirmed. A quick glance to the clock told Vincent how early in the evening it was instead of a later time he believed it to be. Vincent lifted his hand and rubbed the side of his face. "This is rather sad."

"Nonsense," Reeve spoke. "You went through quite the ordeal, Vincent. You can't berate yourself for not being back to your old self."

"I know," Vincent replied. "I suppose I'm just used to bouncing back quickly from my injuries. I guess those days are over."

"Maybe, maybe not. Either way, let's just hope you don't have to go through a battle like you just did ever again," Tifa responded, a hum of agreement from the others following. "Did you want to stay here for the night? You can have one of the beds upstairs."

Vincent grimaced at the idea, unsure of how well he could manage that many stairs. He knew he would have to work more on such things eventually, but it was a task he was not quite ready for at the current moment, even with help from the others. Walking in a straight line was enough of a chore most days as it was. "I suppose I could."

"I could arrange a motel room for you instead if you would prefer," Reeve offered, already reaching for his phone.

Vincent raised a hand, gently waving it dismissively. "No, you don't have to go to that trouble."

"It's no trouble," Reeve reassured him. "I've been in contact with several around the city that have been housing the displaced citizens. I'll get you a room in one as close by as I can."

Vincent opened his mouth, about to protest with the fact that he already owed Reeve for all the other favours until he realized he was reflecting on memories of events that had not happened in reality. Not wanting to spill the beans on that tale yet, Vincent decided it was better to hastily drop the argument. "Thank you, Reeve," Vincent spoke as he watched the other get up to step away and make the phone call. It was at this point he turned his attention to the table surrounded by his friends. "And thank you to the rest of you as well. I know you went through a lot in the battle as well, yet it didn't keep you from helping me after the fact either. I appreciate it."

"That's what we're here for," Cid said and gently pat Vincent's hand.

"Wouldn't've been right leaving you to heal alone," Barett said from the end of the table. "Especially after all that you did."

"Got that right," Yuffie agreed.

Vincent smiled a bit more. "Even so, I just wanted to thank you again. I appreciate it."

"It's no trouble, Vincent," Tifa spoke. She pushed her chair back and got up from the table. "I'll pack some of this up so you can take it with you as well."

"You don't have to do that, Tifa," Vincent said with a wave of his hand. "I've had plenty."

"For now you have, yes, but there's nothing saying you can't have some for later, correct? You can put them in the fridge and have a snack whenever you like."

"They can be yer midnight snacks in the hotel room," Cid added with a smirk.

Vincent hummed quietly at the thought. "I suppose you're right. That wouldn't be a bad idea."

"Good," Tifa replied as she stepped away to retrieve a container for some of the desserts. "Because I already packed some of the leftovers from dinner for you to take. It would be a shame if you didn't have anything for a dessert to follow."

Vincent chuckled gently. "I agree. That would just be wrong."

As Tifa packed up a selection of desserts for him to take upon departure, Reeve returned to the room and to his seat. "It's all settled. I have a room booked for you, and it will be available to you for as long as you need it. I also have a ride arranged to take you there. If you need transportation at any other time, I've alerted the front desk to accommodate your travel plans."

"Reeve, I wish I there was something I could do or offer in return for your efforts to help me, but I'm afraid all I can do is thank you for the time being."

"As I said, it is no trouble. It's the least I can do for you, for being a friend and also for helping as you did. Consider this my thank you for all your efforts."

"I accept then," Vincent replied as he knew that Reeve would not accept anything from him in return, nor did he have the energy to try and convince him otherwise. "Thank you."

The group talked for a while longer until Reeve alerted him that their ride had arrived. As Cid gathered up the food that Tifa had packed up to be taken to Vincent's room, Vincent said his final farewells to the others for the evening. Vincent stepped through the threshold of the bar along with Cid and Reeve and onto the street where a shiny black car awaited them. Vincent was almost amused when he saw Tseng slip out from the driver's seat. "I'm that important that I'm getting escorted by the Turks?" he questioned Reeve.

"Why not?" Reeve shrugged as he walked alongside the two to the car. "He has to drive me home as it is, so I thought it would be easier to call him to have all of us transported to our destinations." 

Vincent's smile was bordering on the line of smirking as he returned his attention to the car. "I see. A good plan," he said as they approached the vehicle. He nodded in thanks to Tseng for opening the door to the car for him and soon enough, he was slipping into his own seat and settling back for the ride along with the others. Cid took the spot beside him, and Reeve sat in the front with Tseng. Vincent smiled to himself and leaned his head back against the window as the car slowly began to navigate through the streets to their destination. Vincent didn't speak, but he listened to the hushed conversation the three shared with one another along the brief drive as they spoke of details of the party. It seemed as though the ride had only taken but a handful of minutes before it was pulling up in front of one of Midgar's more lavish hotels.

"Thank you for taking the time to drive us here, Tseng," Vincent spoke as he was helped out of the vehicle.

"My pleasure," Tseng replied as he held the door open while Cid helped Vincent to his feet. "Though it is Reeve, you should be thanking as it was his idea."

"I did already, but I thank you as well." As Cid held his left arm, Vincent steadied himself with his cane and stepped away from the car to allow Tseng to shut the door. "And thank you for the desserts you sent to the party. They were delicious."

Tseng shut the car door, and the faintest hint of surprise caused his brows to lift. "It was no trouble. I am glad you enjoyed them."

Vincent smiled but refrained from smirking. "I did very much." He looked to Reeve as the man moved to stand by Tseng's side. "Thank you once again, Reeve. I'll keep in touch. I hope you both have a pleasant evening."

"We shall, Vincent," Reeve said and offered Vincent another one of his gentle smiles. "Have a good rest, and by all means, give me a call if you need anything else."

"I'll keep that in mind. Goodnight," Vincent spoke to the two as he walked toward the sliding doors to head inside with Cid.

Cid stepped through the doors with Vincent and cast a quick glance over his shoulder before the doors closed. "How did ya know it was Tseng that sent the treats?" he asked.

Vincent smirked to himself and shrugged subtly. "Lucky guess?"

Cid studied Vincent's expression. "Hey, what's with the smirk?"

"Nothing," Vincent answered. "Just thinking of something that took me a while to realize." Vincent could feel Cid's eyes still on him, and a quick glance out of the corner of his eyes confirmed this was the case. "Never thought of those two being a couple before."

"Hu?"

"You never noticed?" 

Vincent couldn't help but be amused by how befuddled Cid was at the realization, a situation that had been backward compared to that of how a similar conversation had unfolded in his alternate reality. "No, can't say as I did. But now that I think of it..."

"Makes sense, doesn't it?"

"Yeah. A _lot_ o' sense. Now I know why he spends so much time doin' 'overtime at the office'." Cid smirked impishly as his mind produced devious ideas and plans. "I know what _I'm_ doin' the next time I hear that line." 

Vincent didn't let Cid have a chance to plan anymore as he smacked Cid's leg with his cane. "Now, don't be mean. Leave them be. If the two of them being together makes them happy, then that is a good thing. Don't pick on him for it."

Cid grumbled as they walked to the front desk. "Spoilsport," he muttered. "I wasn't gonna be bad!"

"Perhaps not, but now is not the time to tease him with all that is still going on," Vincent replied. "...Give it a month, and _then_ you can pick on him."

Cid smirked at the other and shook his head. "Alright, I'll do that instead."


	13. Chapter 13

Once at the front desk, Vincent requested the information for his room. He was soon provided with a room key, some pamphlets, and a wheelchair for him to take to the room, as per Reeve's request, and was directed to the nearby elevators. Vincent couldn't help but wonder how expensive the place was or how many strings Reeve actually had pulled to get him into such a lavish-looking place as this. Vincent tucked the thought to the side as Cid began to escort him through the building and take him to the room booked for him. A short amount of time later, Cid was wheeling Vincent inside the place that would be the gunman's home for the next while. 

Polished red oak made up the expanse of the floor and looked so pristine that Vincent was afraid to walk on it. A large slate stone fireplace placed in the corner of the room was the focal point of the ample space. Atop of the mantle sat a TV, and placed before it was two lounging chairs with a small table set between the two. Also present in the room was a fridge and small bar with all the utilities to make drinks with, and lastly, a large bed, much larger than what Vincent deemed necessary for himself. Still, from the looks of it, it looked as though it would be very comfortable. There was even a hot tub in the corner opposite the fireplace. 

"Damn. When Reeve books fer fancy, he picks fancy," Cid spoke and pushed the wheelchair further into the room. He stopped by the desk and set down the bags that contained Vincent's food along with the other that held his medications and other items within it.

"That's an understatement," Vincent spoke as he looked over the extravagant details of the room. He had never been in a hotel room this fancy before. "I feel like I'm being treated like royalty."

"That ain't' a bad thing," Cid commented, smiling. Once the bags were set down, Cid brought the wheelchair to a stop adjacent to the bed and put the brakes on to keep the chair stabilized for Vincent while he tended to the bed. After the blankets were pulled back and he had arranged the pillows to Vincent's preference, the pilot knelt down and started to take off Vincent's boots, setting each one aside and out of the way. Once those were off to the side, he reached up to help with Vincent's jacket. That was when he paused, the realization of his actions kicked in. "Uh..."

Vincent looked at the other, partially amused by the stunned expression upon Cid's face. "Is something wrong?"

Cid's eyes locked with Vincent's, and he sheepishly smirked at the question. "Uh, just... didn't realize I was doin' all this fer a moment there." It had been a routine Cid had obviously grown used to when helping Vincent after his therapy sessions at the hospital. "Sorry 'bout that. Didn't think it'd become habit ta just do this.""

Vincent laughed in an amused manner. "It's fine. I didn't mind the help." He held his cane out for Cid to set beside the nightstand. "If you did want to help for this night, it would not bother me. But that choice is yours," Vincent said as he started to unzip his jacket.

Cid watched Vincent work to get out of his jacket, his lips pursed as he did so. "I can if ya want me to?"

Vincent looked up at him as he worked to get his arms out of his jacket. "I said it wouldn't bother me."

Cid took this as enough of an invitation to help Vincent get ready for bed, and soon enough, he was going about the usual routine. Cid tossed Vincent's jacket to the end of the bed and proceeded to help with unbuttoning Vincent's shirt. "Ah shit," he said after he unhooked the final button. "I didn't get ya extra clothes to sleep in."

Vincent waved a hand in dismissal of the concern. "It's fine. I didn't think of it either as it was. I can sleep without clothes for the night. I'd leave these on, but I'd rather not walk around in wrinkled clothes until I can go out and get more."

"Ya sure?"

"It's just one night," Vincent said as he unbuckled his belt and unzipped his pants. "If I can last as long as I did in hospital clothes, I can last one night without being in them. 

Cid snorted gently and shook his head. "If ya say so. We can do that tomorrow if yer feelin' up to it," Cid offered. He helped Vincent with removing his shirt and he tossed it beside the jacket. "Alright. Let's get ya up and outta those pants."

"Yes, sir," Vincent said, softly smirking. While he had hated the routine at first, he had admittedly grown used to it over time for a number of reasons. One, it was a hard lesson in learning that accepting help was nothing to be ashamed of, an old habit of which he knew he had to shed. The second reason was nothing more than enjoying the closeness he would have with Cid in moments like these. He wrapped his arms around Cid's neck. "Ready when you are," he said and let the other help lift him from the chair. 

Once Vincent was standing, Cid pushed the pants off Vincent's hips and turned him to settle him on the bed. Cid removed the garment from there and tossed it with the rest of the clothing before proceeding to the next step. He let Vincent wrap an arm around his neck while he wrapped one of his own around Vincent's shoulders and slipped the other under his knees. "One, two, and three," he counted, moving Vincent in one smooth motion to twist and settle him on the bed just as he would do in the hospital for him.

"Thank you, Cid," Vincent spoke again as he settled back into the pillows.

"Yer welcome, Vince. Pillows okay?" Cid asked as he covered Vincent with the blankets.

"They seem to be," Vincent said. He shifted to adjust himself in the plush bed and said, "It's a very comfortable bed. It feels like I'm in a comfy little nest." 

"That's good," Cid said with a smile. He picked up the clothing he had tossed aside and walked over to the closet. "Want a drink or anything?"

"No, I'm good for now. I think I had my fair share of liquids at Tifa's. As it is, I think I'll be making a few trips to the bathroom tonight because of it." Vincent watched Cid then tend to his clothes, carefully hanging them up. "What would I do without you, hmm?"

Cid looked back to Vincent, chuckling gently and almost blushing. "You'd have wrinkled clothes," he answered sarcastically. He returned to the bed and looked down at the other, his head tipped to the side. "Want me ta get ya anythin' else? TV remote or anything like that?" 

Vincent shook his head as he continued to look up at the other. "No, I'm fine," he said. "I think the only thing I have yet to do is take my medicine, now that I think of it. Other than that, I think I can manage just fine on my own." He exhaled softly and looked between the door and Cid. "I imagine you want to head back to wherever you're staying for the night."

Cid shrugged and slipped his hands into his pockets. "I suppose I could. Are ya gonna be able ta handle yerself through the night alone here?" 

"I would think so. If I wasn't able to take care of myself, then the hospital wouldn't have let me go," Vincent said. "I do not feel too bad after a good rest. It's mostly at the end of the day, much like now, when it's worse." He paused briefly as he made a note of Cid's concerned expression. While he was grateful for the concern, he didn't wish for him to worry too much about him. And so, he added to his current thought. "I wouldn't be opposed to the company, but I won't keep you here either if you need to head back."

"Ah," Cid said, withdrawing a hand from his pocket to dismiss the comment with a wave of his hand. "Nothin' there that I can't live without fer one night. And at least here I have company. And I'd feel better knowin' someone was here in case ya needed someone," he added as he moved to sit down in the wheelchair. "So I can stay if ya want."

"I wouldn't mind," Vincent replied. "Like I said, I wouldn't be bothered having the company." He watched Cid shift to slide out of his jacket, the decision to stay having been made. After a brief moment of deliberation said aloud, "I suppose now would be as good of a time as any to tell you what I promised to tell you some time back."

"Oh?" Cid tried to recall such a comment and tossed his jacket to the end of the bed. "What about again?"

"About what happened to me that made me want to change," Vincent explained. "It has to do with what happened after the battle with Omega."

Cid's brows knit in confusion at the comment. "What about it?" 

Vincent took in a slow breath and began to organize his thoughts so he could tell the tale of what he had experienced apart from what Cid had witnessed. "I experienced something after the collision with Omega, something that you and the others didn't see."

"Oh?"

Vincent nodded as he turned his attention to his hands, his eyes fixating on the new scars along his skin. "You said that when I was found, I was dead. They didn't know how long I was like that, did they?"

Cid's face twisted into a pained expression. He shook his head. "No, they didn't. But that didn't keep 'em from tryin' ta bring ya back. And I'm sure as hell glad they did. Why?"

"Because... in my head, while I was dead, I was living a different life over the course of a few weeks."

There was a noticeable pause before Cid spoke again. "What?"

Vincent wasn't surprised to hear the sound of shock in Cid's voice. He would have been more surprised not to have heard it. "I know. It still confuses me now to think of it," Vincent spoke. "But it was... almost a fairy tale result as to how things could have unfolded after the battle. Everything was just... perfect. Perfect in my eyes, at least. Everyone was fine, both friends and city folk alike. I wasn't injured or in pain after the battle. My scars were gone, so I didn't have this ugly mess to look at," he said with a pointed glance at his left arm. "I even..." He paused as he wondered how the other would react to what accounted for the most significant part of his purgatorial fantasy.

"You even what?" Cid pressed as Vincent's silence stretched on.

Vincent took a breath, deciding to take the plunge into telling the truth. He had come this far. He couldn't back down now. "I even started dating. Fell in love. Got engaged. It was the happiest I'd ever felt."

"That so?" Cid asked. He shifted where he sat and pulled a smile onto his face, but Vincent didn't miss how it wasn't the true genuine one that he knew all too well, nor did he miss the tension that seeped into Cid's features and how he sat more rigidly now than before. "Well, I'm happy for ya... er... well... happy ya _felt_ happy, I guess I should say?" Cid cleared his throat and moved a hand to pat Vincent's covered thigh. "Sounds like one hell of a nice dream. Was she someone we knew or just someone ya dreamed up?"

Vincent didn't look away from Cid but moved one of his hands to settle on Cid's, giving it a squeeze. He wasn't sure if continuing to say more was a good idea now with the shift in Cid's mood, but he didn't want to just let that part of the conversation come to an end there. He knew he had to tell the other, if anything, only to have it off his conscience. He didn't want to hold anything back. "No... he was real. Someone you know quite well," Vincent spoke calmly.

"I see..." Cid paused as he looked at their hands, registering what he had said. The frown lines on Cid's forehead deepened as he seemed to mull over Vincent's words, and after a long silence, he finally spoke. "He?" Cid repeated, looking to meet Vincent's gaze.

Vincent nodded. "That's right," he said. "He...made me feel the happiest I had in my whole life. Beyond what I could have ever expected." He watched the mixed emotions rippling across Cid's features while he ran his own thumb over Cid's knuckles. Before Cid could speak again, Vincent answered the question he assumed was on Cid's mind, taking the final plunge into sharing the secret. "It was you, Cid," he said, fighting past the tension attempting to build in his throat. "I know it was nothing more than a hallucination playing out in my head while I was stuck between the place of life and death... but it was the best hallucination I'd ever had. One that I almost didn't want to leave behind."

Cid sat motionlessly and stared for an unknown amount of time as he absorbed what Vincent told him. "Damn," he finally said after yet another long silence.

Vincent could have snorted but instead huffed a near-silent puff of air from his nostrils. It sounded like himself upon numerous occasions within the dream sequence. "I know this is a heavy thing to take in... but I told myself I would tell you the truth about it... and I told myself that if I came back that I wasn't going to live the same way as I did before," he proceeded to explain. "I don't want this to make you uncomfortable or scare you off, but I can understand if it does. I just wanted to be open about what I experienced. Whether it was real or not, it's felt like hell not being able to share what happened to me. That and it felt like I was living a lie by not telling you. "

Cid stuttered briefly until he could truly collect his words and speak in something that resembled a coherent string of words. "No. _No._ No, it's fine," he reassured the other, scrambling to get words out. "Ya know, it's good ta know these things, right? And hey, I'm glad I made ya happy. Even if it wasn't exactly me, yanno? That's somethin'."

"It sure was something," Vincent spoke softly, smiling warmly as he reflected upon the memories he had. "You obviously made quite an impression on me to be so prominent in my mind like that." He squeezed Cid's hand before slowly letting go, telling himself that he shouldn't let his imagination wander. If there was one thing he couldn't bring himself to tell Cid, it was that the hope of making the dream a reality that pushed him to return instead of following his father. He knew this would be too much for the man, and he didn't want to drive that wedge between them. Therefore, Vincent wasn't about to let his hopes get away on him, but he would allow the memory of that time to be the inspiration to work toward feeling such joy as he did.

Cid looked to the hand that pulled away, then withdrew his own back to the arm of the wheelchair to avoid any awkwardness of leaving it there. "If there's one thing I'm good at its makin' a lastin' impression. Just not often it's always a good one," he said, chuckling half-heartedly.

Vincent smiled at Cid, feeling a sliver of guilt for leaving the other feeling awkward as he was. He was glad he had spoken his mind, but it didn't mean he enjoyed the result it had produced. "I've never had a bad impression of you. You've made me question your sanity at times, but you've never left me wishing to distance myself from you."

Cid looked both amused and relieved at the statement. "That's good to know." Cid looked to his pants and started to tug at a loose thread stemming from the hem of his pant leg. "So uh... just outta curiosity, how did we end up together?"

To say he was shocked to hear the question would not have been an exaggeration of any sort. Vincent tipped his head, and with a questioning gaze, he asked, "Do you really want to know?"

Cid shrugged. "Why not? It was just a dream, right?"

Now it was Vincent's turn to fidget, and his method of choice was playing with the fabric of the comforter draped over him. "It wouldn't make you uncomfortable to know?"

"Don't see why not?" Cid answered. "So? How did it happen?"

Trusting that Cid could handle what he was about to say, Vincent started to tell the tale. "Well... it wasn't exactly a fairytale beginning to it, but it was a scenario my mind felt was believable, I guess. You'd been spending the days with me since I had been let out of the hospital, making sure I was alright and offering support whenever I needed it. Then one day, I had a panic attack. You helped talk me down from it, and that's when you just... blurted it out to me." Vincent smiled initially at the memory of Cid's confession but reigned in his expression in the event the admission of the details had made Cid uncomfortable. "Well...I guess I should say you started out by kissing me first, then admitting it."

Cid's jaw dropped open but he quickly took notice of what he had done and shut his mouth rather than looking like a fool. "I did?"

Vincent almost chuckled at the reaction but thankfully refrained. "You did. Then you admitted you had feelings for me and that you had promised yourself to be open about it once I healed from the battle."

"That so?" Cid huffed gently and snapped the loose thread from the pant leg and started to wind it around his finger. "That does kinda sound like somethin' I would do."

Vincent chuckled gently. "I won't lie, it shocked me. But...the shock didn't last too long. You were a good kisser. At least in my head."  
It was then that Vincent saw something that he had never witnessed within his lifetime - Cid blushing. 

"I was?" Cid asked hesitantly.

Vincent refrained from smirking but was unsure he was succeeding in this endeavour the longer he looked at Cid. "Mhmm."

Cid shifted in his seat and gave a nod. "Well, how could I not be, yanno?" he said, offering his usual smirk in response to his statement. He cleared his throat a second later, his expression sobering minutely. "Even if it wasn't really me, I'm glad to know I was able ta... yanno, make ya happy and all that."

"You did," Vincent spoke. "And you still do. As thankful as I am to the others for being my friends and all they have done for me, I'm most thankful to have your friendship. I know in the beginning I wasn't anyone's idea of a pleasant person to be around, let alone normal. Yet that didn't seem to phase you. You were kind to me from day one, and I've never forgotten that. So I thank you." Vincent took a breath to ease the anxious tension in his chest, all the while still watching Cid's face for any indications as to how he was feeling. "Like I said, I hope what I've told you doesn't change anything between us. I just wanted to be honest, and I did promise to tell you the story one day. Now just seemed to be as good of a time as any."

"Nah, that's fine," Cid spoke while trying to think of something to say to ease Vincent's concerns. "Thanks fer tellin' me. Really. Makes me feel better knowin' yer willin' ta be open about such things. Never liked it when ya bottled stuff in, no matter what it was." A reassuring smile appeared on his face. "So no frettin'. Otherwise, you'll end up with frown lines like this," he said with a motion to his own brows where the skin had permanently creased. 

Vincent chuckled gently and said, "I'll keep that in mind," as the worry slowly began to seep from his body.

"Good." He looked back to the desk and then asked, "Did ya want me to get you yer medicine now or did ya wanna wait a bit longer?"

"Now would be fine," Vincent answered, thankful for the transition of the topic. "Though I'll probably fall asleep rather quickly after the fact."

"Ya need sleep, Vince," Cid replied as he got out of the wheelchair to retrieve Vincent's things. "You were tired before anyway, so ya might as well call it a night now, yanno?" He picked up the bag and carried it to the nightstand. Cid turned on the bedside lamp and commenced sorting through the bottles and items inside while reading over the information sheets. Het out a soft whistle. "Ya sure have an arsenal here."

"Rather daunting, isn't it?" Vincent held out his hand as Cid handed him one of the bottles. "I guess I will need a drink to get these down."

"Once I get them all to ya at least," Cid said as he sorted through the bottles. It took some time, but soon enough, he had all of Vincent's medications set out and was on his way to retrieve a glass of water for the other. He helped Vincent chase down the pills with the water and then tucked away the bottles once they were all done. "Alright... think that's everythin'. Sure ya don't want anythin' else before ya doze off?"

Vincent waved his hand gently. "No, but thank you. I'm fine. If you want to go ahead and watch TV or something, go ahead. I imagine I'll be sleeping soon enough as it is."

"Yer sure?"

Vincent nodded. "I'm sure." He nodded to the rest of the bed beside him. "Feel free to stretch out and relax."

Cid zipped up the small bag so he could carry it back to the desk. "Are ya sure?" he asked again.

The gunman watched Cid as he approached the bed with a sense of wariness about him. He couldn't help but wonder if this was due to what he had just revealed to him, or if Cid was simply someone who didn't like the idea of sharing a bed with another man. "Does the idea bother you?" he asked genuinely, wondering if the concern he had in his dream would come to fruition in reality.

Cid shook his head as he came to a stop at the foot of the bed. "Nah, nothin' like that. I just don't wanna take up any room or accidentally hurt ya while we're sleepin'."

Vincent was relieved to hear the answer, and his mood shifted from concerned to amused. He rolled his eyes ever slightly, smiling. "I was stuck in a coffin for three decades, Cid. I'm rather accustomed to sleeping within a small set area without moving." The joke was grim but accurate none the less. Vincent smiled as it earned a small snort from Cid, and so he closed his eyes as he relaxed a bit more. "Not to mention, this bed is big enough to fit five of me in it. So by all means, go ahead and pick a spot. I won't be using it." 

"If ya say so." Cid returned Vincent's bag back to the table and scooped up the TV remote and walked back to the bed. He carefully settled on the mattress and looked to Vincent. "G'night, Vince. Sleep well."

"I will, Cid," Vincent spoke serenely. "Same to you." It wasn't terribly long before he could feel the effects of the medications beginning to soften the edges of his consciousness and nudging him toward a state of slumber. Vincent barely registered the quiet sounds of from the TV that Cid had turned on before the veil of sleep draped over him.


	14. Chapter 14

Vincent slept heavily through the night as he often did these days thanks to the help of the medications. It didn't happen each night, but upon the rare occasion, he would have several vivid dreams. Whether this was a side effect of the medications or the result of something else was uncertain, but it was none the less enjoyable for a change of pace in Vincent's mind. Both figuratively and literally. This was another one of those occasions, and the imagery his mind produced urged soft moans and other similar noises from him. Normally the medication didn't allow him to rouse from such dreams, not that he minded, and yet something was urging him to awaken, as if from an outside source. Slowly but surely, Vincent began to open his eyes, and he started to scan over his immediate environment. All seemed well and no different from when he had fallen asleep. He looked to his right, where he saw Cid lying on his side and leaning on the pillow that was placed between them, blue eyes wide and staring into his own.

Vincent blinked slowly as he looked at the other, his mind taking a moment to awaken fully. "Morning," he spoke once he found the ability to do so.

"Morning," Cid replied quietly as he continued to stare.

Vincent lifted a hand to rub his face in an effort to awaken himself even more. "Have you been awake for a while?"

"Uh...just fer a little bit."

Vincent peered between two of his fingers, trying to figure out if it was just his imagination or if it was due to the fact that he had just awoken as to why Cid sounded off. "Did I wake you?"

"Uh..."

Vincent made a note of the colour change that was happening along Cid's face. While trying to figure the cause of it, he reflected upon his dream. A knot developed in the pit of his stomach as he ventured a guess as to what happened. "I was making noises in my sleep, wasn't I?" Vincent inquired.

Cid's lips clamped together, and Vincent heard the sound of the other swallowing. "Maybe."

This time it was Vincent's turn for his face to turn red, especially when he noticed that the moaning hadn't been the only form of evidence that conveyed what he had been dreaming about. "Sorry about that," Vincent apologized and shifted in the bed and readjusted the blankets covering him.

"Eh... nothin' to apologize fer. Besides, I'd rather hear ya make sex noises rather than soundin' like yer bein' tortured," Cid spoke in hopes that Vincent didn't feel too awkward. "That's a step up, yanno?

Vincent hummed and drew a hand over his face in a physical attempt to wipe away the embarrassment painting his features. He could remember many times where Cid would awaken him from his horror-wrought nightmares, but this scenario was entirely different. "I suppose that's one way of looking at it. Even so, I still want to apologize for that."

Cid nodded after a moment and hesitantly moved a hand to pat Vincent's arm gently. "Seriously, Vince, don't worry 'bout it. Everyone gets those dreams. They're nice, yanno? They're just a... preemptive stress reliever fer the day."

Vincent looked sheepish as he stared at the ceiling, telling himself that Cid was right, but the embarrassment continued to linger. "I don't exactly feel relieved of any stress at the moment," he admitted. 'Though I would have been if I had slept for a few more minutes,' Vincent thought to himself. He couldn't imagine how much more awkward that would have made the situation. Vincent bit the inside of his lip then cleared his throat, telling himself that moving on to a new topic would be best for the current moment. "So... they have tea stocked here in the room, right?"

"Yeah, they do," Cid said. "I had a cup of it last night. It ain't too bad."  
"Perhaps we should have some?"

"Sure. Can do that." Cid looked as though he was about to get out of the bed, but he settled back down and returned his attention to the TV. "I'll get that in a minute or two."

"Is something wrong?" Vincent asked at the sudden change of mind.

"No," Cid spoke though his tone eluded to the fact that he was not entirely truthful.

"Cid? What's wrong?"

The hint of red began to creep onto Cid's tanned skin once more at the question, and the man shifted on the bed once more, lying a bit more on his belly than usual. "Well... when ya hear moans like you were makin' can sometimes have...adverse effects on those that hear it."

Vincent blinked slowly. "You mean... _you're_ also-"

"I'm about half-mast right now. Gimme a minute ta let the flag down."

Vincent snorted and let his head fall back more into the pillow, embarrassed but also amused at the current situation. "Aren't we quite the pair?"

Cid chuckled gently, glad Vincent was able to see the humour of the situation. "Can say that again." 

The two remained in the bed for some time, watching TV without genuinely paying attention to what was playing. After a while, Cid finally got up from the bed and made his way over to make the tea. Vincent took this opportunity to make his way to the bathroom to both relieve himself and straighten out the mess that was his hair. By the time he had washed up and straightened out his hair and retrieved his clothes to put them back on, Cid had set out two cups of tea on the table by the window for them to share. "Thank you for making that," he spoke as he slid his shirt on.

Cid turned to face the other and flashed a smile in his direction. "Ain't no trouble. This is just part o' my mornin' routine anyway." Cid watched Vincent venture over while buttoning his shirt, his eyes wandering for a moment before he asked, "Feelin' okay today?"

"I do. As I said, I always feel best in the morning as all the aches and pains are gone." He stepped over to the table as he finished buttoning his shirt. "With that said, I should go shopping soon before the stiffness and the like begins to kick in."

"We can do that if ya want," Cid said. "Do ya need to take any mornin' pills?"

"I do actually, but I can take those later when I go out. I'll have them with something to eat," Vincent said as he took a seat at the table. Red eyes turned to look at Cid over the rim of his cup that he had picked up. "Are you going to come with me, or are you going to go about your own thing for the morning."

"I can come with," Cid said as he settled in his seat opposite to Vincent. "If ya don't mind my company."

Vincent swallowed the sip of hot fluid and set down the cup to allow Cid to see his smile. "Not at all. I would enjoy having your company for as long as you can offer it."

Cid smiled back in return, traces of his trademark smirk trying to show through. "Then I'm yers fer the day," he said to him. Cid took another sip of the brewed tea to cover the moment of silence that drifted between them. Once the cup was set down, Cid started to speak. "So... there's somethin' I wanted ta ask ya-"

This was all Cid had been able to say before a loud series of knocks at the door interrupted the two, causing them to jolt in their seats. Cid let out a breath and motioned for Vincent to remain seated. "I'll get it for ya," he told the other and moved to the door to answer it.

Vincent sat back in his seat but watched the door as Cid stood there talking to someone for a brief amount of time. It was a short conversation as soon Cid was stepping back into the room while pushing a small trolley along with him. "What's this?"

"Complimentary room service," Cid spoke as he pushed the tray up to the table. "Guess Reeve pulled out the stops fer ya."

Vincent let out a sigh and shook his head as Cid transferred the tray to sit in front of him and lift the cover off the plate to reveal a platter of scrambled eggs, a selection of savoury meats, toast, shredded and fried potatoes and small dishes of yogurt and fruits as well. "Good grief," he said. "I'm going to have to have a word with that man."

Cid chuckled and set out the drinks that were sent as well then tucked the trolley to the side. "Hey, better to have some food than none at all. At least you can have yer pills now," he pointed out and went to retrieve the bag with that thought in mind."

"I hope you're going to help me eat some of this," Vincent said.

Cid grabbed the bag and returned to the table. "But that's yers."

"It's not as if there's a rule in place saying that it is solely mine because it was delivered to my room," Vincent argued. "I doubt I'll be able to finish all of this, and I do not want them to just throw it all away. By all means," he said and pushed a fork to Cid's side of the table, "dig in."

Cid snorted as he returned to the table and moved his chair closer to Vincent's seat and set the bag down on the empty spot upon the table. "Alright, I'll help ya. Just as long as ya eat what ya can."

"I can honestly say I will most likely not overeat right now as I never was one for eating terribly much in the morning in the first place," Vincent admitted as he started picking out the medications that he needed to take first. "So, by all means, have what you want." Vincent went through his medications and set aside what he needed to take, and while he was putting the bottles away, he asked, "You were about to ask me something?"

Cid speared a cut piece of sausage on his fork just as the question was asked, causing him to pause. "Oh, uh... can't remember now. Guess I forgot." A sheepish chuckle left the pilot. "Must not have been important," he said before popping the piece of food into his mouth.

"Oh?" Vincent found this hard to believe as the man had the mind of a steel trap and was not one to forget things so quickly, even if they were deemed unimportant. That and Cid's expression indicated to Vincent that Cid was withholding what he wanted to ask. Vincent wanted to prod for answers but instead offered the same courtesy Cid had often bestowed upon him and let the subject go in the hope that the other would bring it up once more on his own terms. "If you happen to remember, then I'll be happy to answer."

"Sure thing, Vince."

The two dug into the meal before them, and every morsel devoured, thanks to Cid's help. The empty dishes were stacked back onto the trolley and left in the hallway to be taken away. From there, the two made their way out into the city so Vincent could shop for some extra clothing for himself as well as other necessities he would need over the next while. They hailed down a cab and made their way to the commercial district, where they went through a handful of stores to see what was available for Vincent's liking. The process took a while, but over the course of a few hours, Vincent had finally gotten himself a relatively large selection of clothes that would work for him for the time being.   
Once the shopping was done, the two opted to head to a nearby restaurant to get something to eat before venturing back to the hotel to drop off the items Vincent had purchased. Cid carried the bags for him while Vincent walked alongside the blonde, relying on his cane a bit more now after the continuous walking. As they ventured down the sidewalk, Vincent's eyes were drawn to the tables set out in front of a store that was selling a grand amount of its stock. Whether it was because the store planned on bringing in new merchandise or they were preparing to close down the shop, Vincent was unsure. While walking past the tables, Vincent's eyes scanned over the items set out on display when a particular article caught Vincent's attention. He paused in front of it and, after a brief moment, reached out to pick up the large book. Vincent couldn't help but smile at the design of the old, leatherbound grimoire-style book and turned it over in his hands and opened it to look at the empty pages waiting to be filled.

"Got an itch ta write or somethin'?" Cid asked as he stepped back to Vincent's side.

Vincent chuckled and shook his head. "No. Just had a moment of reminiscence." He turned the face of the book to Cid and said, "You know what this is, right?"

"Looks like some sorta funky journal, if ya ask me," Cid replied.

Vincent chuckled. "I suppose that's not too far off. They're called grimoires."

"Grimoire. Ain't that some sorta magic book?"

Vincent nodded. "That's right. Did I ever tell you that was my father's name?"

Cid looked at Vincent with disbelief. "Get outta here..."

Vincent snickered once more and looked to the book. "It was. I remember hearing many jokes about it as a child. In fact, one of his friends got him a grimoire very similar to this one just because of that fact. My dad turned it into a photo album." He exhaled softly and opened the book again, looking at the empty pages and imagining the photos he once remembered seeing within that old book. "I wish that book was still around." 

"Are you two needing any help?" asked one of the women watching over the tables.

Vincent looked up and shook his head, offering a smile. "Oh, no, thank you," he spoke as he shut the book. Before he could set it down and say they were simply looking, Cid snatched the book from his hand.

"We found what we want already," the blonde said, smiling as he handed the book to the woman. "How much for this?"

Vincent stared while frozen in a state of bewilderment at how quickly Cid wandered away to pay for the book. It took him a moment to snap out of the daze, and he quickly followed after, coming to Cid's side just as he finished paying for it. 

"Thanks," Cid said to the lady, giving her a smile and turned to face Vincent, holding the bag to him. "Here ya go."

"Cid, you didn't have to do that," Vincent spoke as he took the bag from him.

"I didn't _have_ ta, but I wanted to. This way you can start yer own photo album. Just like yer dad. Besides, it made ya smile," the pilot said, poking Vincent's chest. "You deserve ta have more things that make ya smile."

Vincent fell silent for a moment and looked to the bag he held in his hands. He bit the inside of his bottom lip as a thought drifted through his mind, but he was quick to brush it aside before he focused too much attention on it. Vincent looped the handles of the bag over his wrist and started walking to catch up to Cid. "Thank you, Cid."

The pilot turned his attention to the other, a gentle smile tugging at his lips. "Yer welcome, Vince."

Vincent watched Cid from the corner of his vision, noticing the blue-eyed man was staring off once more in silent contemplation. The momentary silence was not something that was rare between the two of them, but continued silence was. Aside from the few words exchanged just moments ago and a handful of other comments made while Vincent had been searching for clothing, Cid had not spoken more than what was necessary. This had Vincent concerned. "You've been rather quiet today, Cid," Vincent initiated. "Is something on your mind?"

"Hu?" Cid's attention to the path they were walking was only briefly disturbed by the question, but this did not last for long. "Sorry. Guess I've just got stuff on m'mind."

"That's just what I said."

"It was?" Cid cleared his throat and Vincent could see by the way Cid straightened out his shoulders that the pilot was trying to compose himself. "Damn. Sorry. Guess I'm not payin' as much attention as I thought I was."

"There's no need to apologize," Vincent said. "It happens to the best of us. I'm just worried as you're not often this quiet unless something is troubling you, and even then you tend to be more talkative." Vincent thought back to the previous night and the conversation shared between them. It left a bitter taste in his mouth to believe this was the cause of Cid's silence. Vincent transferred the bag from his left wrist to his other hand that held the cane and reached out to take hold of Cid's jacket sleeve, just strong enough to make the blonde pause and look at him. "Cid, does this have to do with what I said last night? Or even this morning's events?"

The question was enough to spark a flicker of concern in Cid's eyes and burn away the haze of thought that had lingered there. "Nah, its nothin' like that. It's just... well..." Cid's shoulders sunk by a fraction but enough to be noticed. "I guess maybe in a way, it is."

Vincent felt a twist of despair in his gut at the admission, but he did not allow his body to reveal any signs that it had affected him as such. "I'm sorry, Cid. Perhaps it was wrong of me to tell you, but I just wanted to be honest. I apologize for the fact it's causing you to feel different around me."

"Oh hell, I ain't upset 'bout that," Cid said, then gently tugged the other to the edge of the sidewalk to avoid a small crowd walking by. He motioned to the bench, just feet from them and helped Vincent take a seat. "It just got me thinkin' 'bout some things."

Vincent settled onto the wooden bench and set his bag down beside the others that Cid set between their feet. "Might I ask what about?"

Cid shifted uncomfortably on the bench, calloused hands rubbing against one another as he thought on his words. "Ya said that in yer dream when... when you were... yanno..."

"When I was dead," Vincent finished for him.

Cid recoiled slightly at the singular word but nodded and attempted ignoring how horridly the memory still effected him. "Yeah, that. Anyway, ya said we started datin', and we were gonna get hitched and all that, and that it made ya happy, right?"

Vincent nodded slowly, wondering what the question would lead to next. "Yes, that's right."

Cid also nodded, and he paused briefly once again before he spoke again. "Do ya think ya dreamt that up because yer mind was just comin' up with weird shit and I just happened ta be the one that did all those things? Or is there a bigger reason behind it?"

The question caused Vincent's lips to clamp shut in an effort to keep his heart from jumping out of his body. Red eyes locked onto the blue ones that were suddenly upon him and studying his reaction to the question, obviously waiting to decipher if what he had to say was truthful or laced with deceit. He swallowed the lump in his throat and took a breath to refill his lungs. "To be honest, it had been a wish of mine. A fantasy, I suppose you could call it, where we were more than just friends. It was never a prominent thought on my mind, for numerous reasons. Past events made me reluctant to allow myself to entertain such thoughts, but I also knew such a thing would never happen between us." Vincent looked away from Cid and instead turned his attention to his own hands, mimicking what Cid had been doing with his own when they sat. "I felt it was better to remain at your side as a friend than to say something that could take that away. I didn't want anything to disrupt that."

Vincent's stomach twisted in knots like a nest of snakes while he silently waited for Cid's reply. Though it was only a matter of a few seconds that had passed, it had felt much longer. 

"How long have ya felt that way?" Cid asked.

"Not long before we had to part ways when Meteor was falling," Vincent answered. "At first, I told myself that those feelings only arose due to the dire circumstances at hand, yet the feeling did not fade even after the danger had passed."

Cid released a soft huff that sounded akin to disbelief. "Damn. You've been holdin' that in fer a long time then, hu?"

Vincent nodded in response. "I guess I have been." When he felt he was able to do so again, he looked back to Cid. "Does this bother you as well?"

Cid snorted gently in response and shook his head. "In a way, yeah," he admitted. "But not in the way you'd probably think." Cid looked to Vincent and offered him a small smile to easy the worry he saw in Vincent's eyes. "Guess I'm just bothered that I didn't know any sooner... and that I didn't say anything myself either."

Vincent blinked slowly and raised his head. "Do you mean-"

"Yeah," Cid spoke in a penitent tone. "Hell, Vince, I thought you were as straight as m'spear, especially whenever ya spoke 'bout that Lucrecia chick. Wasn't until yesterday when ya said what ya did about us in yer dream that it had me wonderin'." He shrugged and slumped back against the bench. "All that aside, even back then, I didn't wanna say nothin' to ya just because o' how much ya got fucked over by so many people. Didn't wanna make ya feel like I'd do somethin' ta hurt ya. So I kept m'mouth shut." A short laugh escaped the pilot as he pulled out his cigarette pack and took a peek inside of it to see how many remained inside. "That and I tried to keep that part o' me hid back then too. Didn't want word gettin' around. No one gets upset if yer a guy that likes girls. But the minute people find out ya bat fer the same team, they watch ya closer than old man ShinRa watches his bank accounts. Poor excuse, I guess when ya step back and look at it."

Vincent hummed in understanding, having witnessed such behavior back in his rookie days of the Turks. He knew of a few that also hid such details about themselves to avoid ridicule or harassment, and he could only imagine it was the same for Cid, having worked the jobs he did. "I can't blame you for that. It's not a poor excuse." Another fraction of time passed between them before Vincent opted to speak up first, asking the pilot, "So... now that we have all this out in the open... what do you wish to do?"

Cid looked at Vincent after a moment of deliberation. "Depends - would ya actually wanna date someone like me? In real life and not a dream?"

The answer came to Vincent with ease. "I wouldn't have chosen to come back if it meant I didn't have the chance to try to attain that very thing."

Vincent's words coaxed a smile onto Cid's face, a warm smile that Vincent had been privy to witness only a handful of times. "I guess... but what if it don't work out between us?"

Vincent slowly inhaled and stomped down the concern in his mind that had held him back all this time. "If it doesn't..." Vincent looked to his side and picked up the cane to lightly tap the pilot on the crown of his head. "Then I'll smack you on the head with this, possibly induce some minor amnesia and demand a do-over."

Cid's head tipped back as he let out a laugh in response. "Alright. Okay, that works." He drew his head forward again, a glimmer in his eyes as he looked at Vincent. "Just don't smack me too hard. Kinda need some of m'memories in place fer work and shit like that."

Vincent smiled as the tension and worry drained from his body and from Cid's as well. "I'll do my best. Promise."

Cid smiled and, after a moment, reached out to place his hand over Vincent's and hold it securely within his own. "I'll hold ya to that."


	15. Chapter 15

The months that followed had seemed to rush by swiftly, and with it had come many changes. Not long after his discharge from the hospital, Vincent had taken up residence with Cid in his home in Rocket Town. It had been a mutual decision reached between them both for the sake of two purposes. Reason one was that it provided Vincent with a place to stay without the concern of paying for rent and also not leaving Vincent alone to fend for himself, especially while still in recovery. The second reason was the opportunity to test the waters of being in a relationship. For both of these reasons, it seemed to be the most sensible decision.

At first, it was not vastly different from how they had always interacted with one another. When together at home, they would sit and talk about the day's events, even if Vincent had little to share of his own stories. They would share a meal, sit back and have a drink while either watching something on TV or sitting on the front step of the house to watch the setting sun. The only thing that separated these interactions from ones prior to their confessions was the occasional hand-holding or a chaste kiss shared before parting ways for bed. This too was another thing that changed over time. Cid, wanting to give Vincent space to start, surrendered his bedroom for Vincent to stay in while he remained on the couch at nighttime. While Vincent argued this was an unfair imposition, Cid would always counter that he had spent more nights on his couch than he had his bed most times, as well as the fact that it would prevent him from waking Vincent early in the morning when he had to run off to work. Eventually, after nearly a month of this arrangement, Cid purchased a new bed large enough for the both of them, and his nights of remaining on the couch came to an end, much to Vincent's delight.

During this time, Vincent healed more with each passing day, and soon enough, he was back to his usual mobile self, and the limp along with the cane was no longer present. Having gained his strength and energy back, Vincent became more active and revelled in the fact he could move with ease once again. At first he kept himself busy with simple things, such as housework or minor jobs around the home, just to keep himself moving. He had even visited Cid's shop numerous days during the week just to have something different to do. Even so, he played it safe for some time, not wishing to do anything too strenuous in fear that he would somehow set himself back from all the progress that he had made. Once he was confident that he had recovered completely, Vincent moved on to bigger and more extensive tasks to keep himself active during the hours of the day that Cid was busy. 

It did not seem to take long before he had grown to be an integral part of the small community. Vincent began to acquire new friends the longer he spent in the town, something that brought Cid much joy. While Cid did his own work both within and outside the community, Vincent stayed close to Rocket Town and put his gunmanship skills to use. He conducted weekly hunts of wildlife and had the meat shipped to the local vendors to be provided to the townspeople. It wasn't much, Vincent felt, but it gave him something to do that he was comfortable with, and many locals appreciated the generous contributions to the community. It wasn't long before the townfolk would see Vincent and jokingly mention things along the lines of making him the one to acquire the meat for a steak night at their local inn. This, however, was something Vincent felt was a good idea. And so, when he had the time and ability to go for an extra hunt, he made such a thing possible.

Presently, Vincent and Cid were leaving the inn after having a few drinks and a quick meal at the end of a long day, each leaning on one another as they made their way to the house. They spoke in hushed voices to one another in between greeting others they passed while they made their way back to the house. 

"Gonna be nice ta sleep in tomorrow," Cid said upon the approach of their driveway.

"It will be," Vincent agreed. "If you can sleep in, that is. You seem to be stuck in your routine of waking up at six regardless of whether you have to work or not."

"I know," Cid groused as he stepped down the sinking stone path up to the porch. He looked over his shoulder, smirking at him as he walked backward the few remaining steps to the door. "Maybe you can help tire me out, so that don't happen?"

Vincent smirked as he closed the distance between them. "I think I could manage that." He was only able to plant a quick kiss on the blonde's lips before Cid stepped back through the door he had just opened. "Backing away so soon? Tsk. Such a tease."

"Oh, _I'm_ the tease?" Cid scoffed, shutting the door behind the gunman once he stepped in. Cid shrugged off his jacket and tossed it over the back of his favoured armchair without so much as a glance. "Who was it again that greeted me with nothin' on but a smile at the kitchen table last week before I had ta go ta work?"

Vincent discarded his jacket in the same manner as Cid had and onto the same spot as well. "That's different. That was a birthday present."

"It's September, Vince."

"And?"

"M'birthday's in February."

"I didn't say it was for _your_ birthday. It was for mine."

"Yer's is in _October._ "

Vincent shrugged. "I wanted to start celebrating early." He stepped over to Cid and draped his arms over Cid's broad ones and tilted his head as he looked at him. "Is that a problem?"

"I didn't say it was," Cid said with a smirk. He leaned up and pressed a kiss to Vincent's lips. "Just makin' an observation." Without any word of warning, Cid swung Vincent off his feet and began to carry the man to the bedroom. 

Vincent raised a brow as an amused smirk tugged at the corner of his lips. "You know, I could have walked. I did regain that ability if you hadn't noticed."

"I noticed," Cid said, punting the bedroom door with his foot and carrying Vincent to the bed. "Just wanted to. Heat o' the moment sorta thing."

"That so?" The gunman looked into the room as they walked in and was unable to suppress an amused snort. "I feel like a bride being carried over the threshold to their honeymoon suite," he said as he was set on the edge of the mattress. "We're just missing the rose petals on the bed."

Cid also snorted at the idea. "I always thought that shit was stupid." He knelt down to remove the dark-haired man's boots and socks. "Rippin' apart a nice lookin' flower just ta throw its petals all over the place. Don't see how that's romantic."

"You don't think it is?"

"There ain't _nothin'_ romantic about pickin' flower petals outta yer ass crack."

The bark of laughter that escaped Vincent was one he could not have held back even if he tried. The mental image of Cid doing such a thing was almost too much. He lifted a hand to cover his mouth, almost embarrassed by the loud noise he produced, but not enough that it made him cease laughing completely. He took in a deep inhale through his nostrils, all the while pointing a finger at Cid in a wordless warning to stop laughing as well so he could regain his composure to speak again. After he exhaled and could feel the convulsions in his chest diminish, he finally spoke. "Yes, well, when you put it _that_ way, I can agree."

Cid had stopped laughing, but the twinkle in his eyes remained after the fact. "I sure do love hearin' ya laugh like that. Just wish ya wouldn't stifle yerself, though. One, I like hearin' ya laugh, and two, yer head's gonna pop like a balloon one o' these days."

Vincent cleared his throat and drew his hand over his face, still smirking broadly. "My apologies. I've been trying to work on that. It's just another old habit that has yet to die off, I suppose." He watched Cid return to the task of removing his socks and waited for the other to get up, but instead watched Cid as he ran his fingers along his feet as if lost in deep thought. "Is something wrong?"

Cid peered up at the question asked and shook his head, a weak smile pulling at the corner of his lips. "Nah, just thinkin' is all. Nothin' major."

Vincent tipped his head as he looked at the blonde and lifted his hand to comb through the blonde locks of hair. "You've been saying that quite a bit lately, and I admit it's beginning to worry me." His fingertips brushed through Cid's hair and around to follow the line of Cid's jaw and to his chin. "What's on your mind?"

"I..." Cid stared wordlessly for a handful of seconds, seemingly lost in thought. When his trance broke, he leaned back into a crouched position and reached to the back of his neck to undo the link of the chain necklace he kept on at all times. As he pulled it off his neck, the dog tags that slipped out from behind the cover of his shirt were accompanied by another item. Dangling alongside the metal tags was a black and silver ring as well. Cid slipped the ring off the chain and set his necklace to the side. "Just wasn't sure when or if I should give this to ya. Been on m'mind a lot lately," Cid admitted as he looked upon the small item. "Guess now's as good o' time as any, hu?" Blue eyes shifted between the ring and the other's expression, trying to figure out what the other was thinking about. "I know it ain't anythin' extravagant, but I didn't think ya liked anything big or gaudy lookin'. Just saw this one day and thought o' you." A brief pause drifted between them before Cid asked, "Do ya like it?"

The question had only just managed to pull Vincent from his thoughts, red eyes snapping to look at Cid. "Hu?" His eyes were drawn back to the item he held between his fingers as Cid nodded to it. "Oh. Yes, it's beautiful," Vincent spoke, still in a daze as he absorbed the reality of the situation. If he was able to, Vincent would have pinched himself to see if the moment was real.

Cid looked unsure at the reply given, and he couldn't help but wonder if it truly was good enough. "I did this better in yer fantasy, didn't I?"

"What? No," Vincent spoke immediately. While he could understand where Cid would have reached such a conclusion, he didn't wish for Cid to believe his stunned silence to be interpreted as disappointment. "No, not at all. In fact, it's better," Vincent finally said.

"It is?" Cid questioned, still sounding uncertain.

"Yes, it is," Vincent firmly reassured. He looked to Cid, offering him a tender smile. "Because this time it's real." There had been many times Vincent found himself questioning if all of this was still part of another dream, another layer to the facade after having escaped the firs, but he knew these thoughts merely stemmed from a paranoid place in his mind that refused to let go of dark and paranoid thoughts. He knew this time it was real, and he had the literal scars to prove it. Vincent slipped the ring onto his finger, and his smile grew a bit more at the perfect fit. "It seems you are good at guessing sizes after all," he said, referencing back to the time Cid had to purchase clothes for him. 

Cid looked at him sheepishly and lifted a hand to scratch his cheek. "Yeah, well... that wasn't exactly a guess." 

"What do you mean?" 

"Well, the one night you were sleepin', I got a string and wrapped it around yer finger just ta make sure I knew what size," the pilot admitted. 

Vincent's expression conveyed surprise, and a chuckle left him before he shoved the other's shoulder, coupled with a comment of, "You sneaky bastard."

Cid laughed softly as he stumbled backward but managed to catch himself before he tumbled over onto the floor. "Well, I didn't want it ta be fallin' off!" he said in amusement. "I wanted ta get it right on the first try." He looked at the ring and back to Vincent as he gazed upon it. "So... this a yes?" 

"Oh, it's a 'yes,' alright." Vincent reached down and started to tug Cid's shirt up his chest, his eyes twinkling. "Now get in this bed, and I'll show you how much of a 'yes' it is." 

Cid couldn't help but laugh once more and lifted his arms so the shirt could be tugged off. As the shirt was tossed to the side, Cid crawled on the bed and over top of the other. "I _really_ like this new you." 

"So do I," Vincent agreed, a smirk accompanying the comment and pulled the other down onto the bed with him.

~~**~~**~~**~~**~~**~~**~~**~~**~~**~~**~~**~~**~~

Vincent had been sleeping wonderfully until the sound of a phone ringing startled him out of his slumber. He heard grumbling beside him and felt the bed shift as Cid pulled away from him in order to track down the phone. If Vincent was correct, it had been abandoned along with their clothes that were strewn about on the floor. Vincent groaned himself at the loss of the warmth and started to stretch in the bed. He didn't pay catch Cid's half of the conversation as the ache in his muscles held his attention instead. He moved his limbs beneath the soft sheets, stretching briefly and releasing a growl as he went still, exhaling as he surrendered to the idea of not moving for a bit.

Cid finished the brief phone call and crawled back onto the bed and under the covers to curl up beside the other. "Sorry 'bout that." He pressed a kiss to Vincent's shoulder and asked, "You okay?"

Vincent hummed softly and moved his hand to rest on the arm that was draped across his chest. "Yeah, I'm fine," he answered. "Just a bit stiff this morning."

Another hum came from the pilot, and he lifted a hand to brush some of the hair away from Vincent's face. "Was I too much fer ya last night?"

"It wasn't meant to sound like a complaint," Vincent countered, the trace of a smirk appearing. 

Cid mirrored Vincent's chuckle and pressed another kiss against Vincent's shoulder then rolled over to prop himself up on his elbow to look down at the other, his eyes taking in the sight of the other. "Good ta know."

A yawn snuck past Vincent's lips, which was soon followed by a soft groan. "What was the phone call about?"

"Ack. Just the guys at the shop. Wonderin' if I was comin' in today 'r not ta help out."

"And you told them...?" he started to inquire, cracking open an eye to look at him. 

"A big, fat 'no'," Cid said. He leaned down and pressed a kiss to Vincent's lips and said, "I told 'em yesterday I wasn't comin' in, but I guess the memo didn't get around ta everyone yet. I could go an' help, but it ain't like everythin's gonna fall apart if I ain't there fer today."

"Mmm, true. So when are you going in?"

Cid blinked. "I just said I wasn't goin' in."

"I know you did. But I also know you well enough to know what's going to happen. You will keep wondering if they really do need you there or not, and you will probably feel guilty come lunchtime and head down there regardless," Vincent replied. "Just to make sure."

Cid grunted gently. "Eh. Maybe. Ya got permission to tie me to the bed if I get the urge."

"I will gladly oblige," Vincent said, smirking.

Cid chortled and gave the other one more kiss then held the man's hand, glancing at the ring briefly before asking, "How 'bout I go and make ya some breakfast?"

"It's alright," Vincent responded. "I'm not hungry just yet." No sooner had the words left him did a quiet gurgle leave the gunman's stomach that sounded for a steady three seconds. "...But on the other hand, having some food might not be a bad idea..."

Cid laughed softly and kissed the back of the hand he held. "That's what I thought. You just rest yer muscles a bit. I'll go make us some food before yer stomach decides ta go get somethin' on its own." As Cid rolled out of bed, he picked up the clothing that had been tossed about the room from the previous night and threw them in the basket beside the door, managing to land most of them inside it. He stepped to the dresser and withdrew himself some new clothes and proceeded to get dressed. Cid looked at Vincent as he watched him with a smirk. Cid cocked a brow and dropped the shirt onto the bed and started to put his pants on. "What's with the smirk?"

"Just enjoying the view," Vincent admitted.

Cid chuckled as he pulled the pants up and carefully zipped them up. "I'd let ya keep enjoyin' the view, but I'd rather not be naked while cookin' at a hot stove." He grabbed the white tank top that had been permanently stained with grease and oil smears and slipped it over his head and himself before he stepped to the bed and pressed another kiss to Vincent's lips. "I'll be back in a bit."

"I'll be here." Vincent watched the other leave and simply lie there, listening to the sounds that quietly echoed from the kitchen as Cid got a start on their meal. He lay there for an unknown amount of time before he rolled onto his side and looked to the bedside table, his eyes fixing on the grimoire sitting on the far edge of it. Vincent didn't remember leaving it there. In fact, he thought he had left it on a shelf in the living room as he had neglected to actually dedicate time to filling it with photos as he had once planned to. He knew this as Cid had been asking him where the book was the day before, for no other reason than 'I was just wondering,' before dropping the subject. 

Vincent reached over and picked up the book, opening it to the first page. Vincent took note of Cid's handwriting on the first page, the words "Vincent's photos" written across the old paper. He turned to the next page, and he couldn't help but smile as he looked at the first few photos within it. The first at the top of the page being the group photo they had taken after the battle with the remnants from years ago. The second photo pasted below it was also another one of the whole group, though this one was from the day Vincent had first gotten out of the hospital. Only one other photo was present in the album, one which he had not known was even taken. It was a single photo on the second page, one that someone had taken of him and Cid dancing together at the bar, with Cid's note of 'first dance' just below it. Vincent smiled warmly. He would have to thank Cid when he returned with the food.

Vincent looked upon the photos for a long time before he slowly closed the book, his eyes taking in the details of the cover while he reminisced about a time not too long ago. He set the photo album down on the nightstand and slowly let out a relaxing breath. "Thanks, dad," he spoke aloud and closed his eyes. They were only closed for a moment before the scent of lilies tickled his senses. Vincent smiled. "You too, Aerith," he added quietly and returned his attention to the sounds of Cid cooking in the kitchen.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And there you have it - a 15 chapter story spurred on from a scene that popped into my head one night at 2am in the morning. If you made it this far, I hope you enjoyed this weird tale of mine. Thank you for taking the time to read <3

**Author's Note:**

> Hello. I hope those who are reading this have enjoyed the first chapter. This story has been a bit of a wild ride for me. It all started one night well over a year ago when a scene popped into my head, one that I quickly jotted down a few thousand words worth so I didn't forget it. Before I knew it, the short five chapter story I had roughed out grew larger and turned into this. With that said, if you choose to continue, I hope you enjoy this story that I have whittled away at since I first started it so long ago.


End file.
